If I were your grandmother I should send you in to take them off.

If you turn the heads of old dowagers such as I am, what chance have all these chickens?
...

Hush, Tommy! That was a very naughty word! And you need not be jealous of Dal.

I admire you still more.

Dal, will you paint my scarlet macaw ?" The young artist, whose portraits in that year's Academy had created much interest in the artistic world, and whose violet shirt had just been so severely censured, lay back in his lounge-chair, with his arms behind his head and a gleam of amusement in his bright brown eyes.
"No, dear Duchess," he said.