Speed Is The Curse Of The Age.

Is It Not Insupportable To Be Held Down To A Canter When You Long To Gallop For Miles?

I Don't Know What You May Have Seen Fit To Tell Her, Venetia, But So Far As I Understand It You Could Think Of Nothing Better To Do Than To Beguile Her With Some Farrago About Wishing Damerel To Strew Rose-leaves For You To Walk On!" Damerel, Who Had Resumed His Seat, Had Been Staring Moodily Into The Fire, But At These Words He Looked Up Quickly. "rose-leaves?" His Eyes Went To Venetia's Face, Wickedly Quizzing Her. "but My Dear Girl, At This Season?" "be Quiet, You Wretch!" She Said, Blushing.

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

Spread The Glad Tidings That It Will Not Disappoint Miss Heyer's Many Admirers. Judging From The Letters I've Received From Obviously Feeble-minded Persons Who Do So Wish I Would Write Another These Old Shades, It Ought To Sell Like Hot Cakes. I Think Myself I Ought To Be Shot For Writing Such Nonsense, But It's Questionably Good Escapist Literature And I Think I Should Rather Like It If I Were Sitting In An Air-raid Shelter, Or Recovering From Flu. Its Period Detail Is Good; My Husband Says It's Witty---and Without Going To These Lengths, I Will Say That It Is Very Good Fun.

[...]my Memory Is Reasonably Good—unlike Yours, Dear Sir!” “mine Is Erratic,” He Said Imperturbably. “i Remember Only What Interests Me.