Thus time rolled on, till they heard afar the stroke of the distant church-clock, and Mr.Dale started up and cried, "But we shall be too late for Leonard.

Come, naughty little girl, get your father his hat." "And umbrella!" said Riccabocca, looking up at the cloudless, moonlit sky.
"Umbrella against the stars ?" asked the parson, laughing.

"The stars are no friends of mine," said Riccabocca, "and one never knows what may happen!" The philosopher and the parson walked on amicably.
"You have done me good," said Riccabocca, "but I hope I am not always so unreasonably melancholic as you seem to suspect.

The evenings will sometimes appear long, and dull too, to a man whose thoughts on the past are almost his sole companions." "Sole companions ?--your child ?" "She is so young." "Your wife ?" "She is so--" the bland Italian appeared to check some disparaging adjective, and mildly added, "so good, I allow; but you must own that she and I cannot have much in common." "I own nothing of the sort.

You have your house and your interests, your happiness and your lives, in common.