'Distinctly, papa.' When I had spoken, I could scarcely help laughing.

He went like a pony that is being broken in, crying, I don't know how many times, 'Why?
What's your reason ?' You may suppose, darlings, that I decline to enter upon explanation.

If a person is dense upon a matter of pure sentiment, there is no ground between us: he has simply a sense wanting.

'What has all this to do with Besworth ?' I asked.

'A great deal more than you fancy,' was his answer.