Why, in that first line that I heard you reading, the wretches actually asked me whether I expected my beautiful goddess to wear her crown upon her comely tail!" "I am quite at a loss to understand you, sir.

Why, you speak as if this great work were your own!" "So it is, every word of it," cried Frank, hurried out of all reserve by excitement.

"At least, I don't mean that it is a great work--though others, besides your good self, have said--Are you sure that your friend bought twenty copies?
My publishers will have to clear up that.

Why, they say, under date of yesterday, that they have only sold six copies altogether.

And it was out on Guy Fawkes' Day, two months ago!" Caryl Carne's face was full of wonder.