Oh, 'tis Not My Qualities They Object

My Dearest Goose, Why Didn't You Trust Me, When I Assured You That You Might?' He Countered. 'i Have Cherished Throughout The Believe That You Would Confide In Me, And You See I Was Quite Right.

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?

Sir Richard Sighed. "rid Yourself Of The Notion That I Cherish Any Villainous Designs Upon Your Person," He Said. "i Imagine I Might Well Be Your Father. How Old Are You?" "i Am Turned Seventeen." "well, I Am Nearly Thirty," Said Sir Richard. Miss Creed Worked This Out. "you Couldn't Possibly Be My Father!" "i Am Far Too Drunk To Solve Arithmetical Problems. Let It Suffice That I Have Not The Slightest Intention Of Making Love To You.

Well, You Have The Right To Make A Sacrifice Of Yourself, But I'll Be Damned If I'll Let You Sacrifice Me!

You Will Like Her," He Persisted. "egad, She's After Your Own Heart, Maman! She Shot Me In The Arm." "voyons, Do You Think That Is What I Like?