It Was Growing Late, And Though One

I Have Seen What Comes Of Being Patient," Amanda Said With A Boding Look. "and I Have No Opinion Of It." "what Does Come Of It?" Inquired Sir Gareth. "nothing!

It Was Growing Late, And Though One Might Stand On The Brink Of A Deep Chasm Of Disaster, One Was Still Obliged To Dress For Dinner.

Will You Marry Me, Vile And Abominable Girl That You Are? Yes, But, Mind, It Only To Save My Neck From Being Wrung!

Depend Upon It, You Are Just The Sort Of Girl A Man Would Be Glad To Have For His Sister! You Don't Even Know How To Swoon, And I Daresay If You Tried You Would Make Wretched Work Of It, For All You Have Is Common Sense, And Of What Use Is That, Pray?

I Will Not Listen To Your Verse On An Empty Stomach!" Declared The Vicomte. "you Have No Soul," Said Philippe Sadly. "but I Have A Stomach, And It Cries Aloud For Sustenance." "i Weep For You," Said Philip. "why Do I Waste My Poetic Gems Upon You?