You're unbearable in love." "The lash of your wit cuts deeply sometimes," said Grant quietly.
"Dash it all, old chap, I was talking at random.

Very well.

I'll do penance in sackcloth and ashes by remaining here, and applauding your poetic efforts.

I'll even help.

I'm a dab at sonnets." Meanwhile, Mr.Siddle had regained his poise.
"I meant nothing offensive to the donor of the beer," he said, tuning his voice to an apologetic note.