I like to go to plays; he doesn't.

He likes rainy days, and I abhor them.

Mercy! Life with me for him would be one long jangling discord, my love, while with you it'll be one long sweet song!" Marie drew a deep breath.

Her eyes were fixed on a point far ahead up the curveless street.
"I hope it will, indeed!" she breathed.
Not until they were almost home did Billy say suddenly: "Oh, did Cyril write you?
A young relative of Aunt Hannah's is coming to-morrow to stay a while at the house." "Er--yes, Cyril told me," admitted Marie.
Billy smiled.
"Didn't like it, I suppose; eh ?" she queried shrewdly.
"N-no, I'm afraid he didn't--very well.

He said she'd be--one more to be around." "There, what did I tell you ?" dimpled Billy.