Beautiful! Delightful! You could not have so outdone yourself, I hope, without being wonderfully well.' 'I _am_ wonderfully well.' 'Nothing unequal,' says the Minor Canon, with a smooth motion of his hand: 'nothing unsteady, nothing forced, nothing avoided; all thoroughly done in a masterly manner, with perfect self-command.' 'Thank you.

I hope so, if it is not too much to say.' 'One would think, Jasper, you had been trying a new medicine for that occasional indisposition of yours.' 'No, really?
That's well observed; for I have.' 'Then stick to it, my good fellow,' says Mr.Crisparkle, clapping him on the shoulder with friendly encouragement, 'stick to it.' 'I will.' 'I congratulate you,' Mr.Crisparkle pursues, as they come out of the Cathedral, 'on all accounts.' 'Thank you again.

I will walk round to the Corner with you, if you don't object; I have plenty of time before my company come; and I want to say a word to you, which I think you will not be displeased to hear.' 'What is it ?' 'Well.

We were speaking, the other evening, of my black humours.' Mr.Crisparkle's face falls, and he shakes his head deploringly.
'I said, you know, that I should make you an antidote to those black humours; and you said you hoped I would consign them to the flames.' 'And I still hope so, Jasper.' 'With the best reason in the world! I mean to burn this year's Diary at the year's end.' 'Because you-- ?' Mr.Crisparkle brightens greatly as he thus begins.
'You anticipate me.

Because I feel that I have been out of sorts, gloomy, bilious, brain-oppressed, whatever it may be.