I always do at Rome as Rome does." "Then you will stay away," said Frank, with a sad smile.
"Ah?
No.

Church is respectable and aristocratic; and there one don't get sent to a place unmentionable, ten times an hour, by some inspired tinker.

Beside, country people like the Doctor to go to church with their betters; and the very fellows who go to the Methodist meeting themselves would think it _infra dig._ in me to walk in there.

Now, good-bye--though I haven't introduced myself--not knowing the name of my kind preserver." "My name is Frank Headley, Curate of the Parish," said Frank, smiling: though he saw the man was rattling on for the purpose of preventing his talking on serious matters.
"And mine is Tom Thurnall, F.R.C.S., Licentiate of the Universities of Paris, Glasgow, and whilome surgeon of the good clipper Hesperus, which you saw wrecked last night.

So, farewell!" "Come over with me, and have some breakfast." "No, thanks; you'll be busy.