I marvelled where you had got that sort of face.

When you came on me in Hay Lane last night, I thought unaccountably of fairy tales, and had half a mind to demand whether you had bewitched my horse: I am not sure yet.

Who are your parents ?" "I have none." "Nor ever had, I suppose: do you remember them ?" "No." "I thought not.

And so you were waiting for your people when you sat on that stile ?" "For whom, sir ?" "For the men in green: it was a proper moonlight evening for them.

Did I break through one of your rings, that you spread that damned ice on the causeway ?" I shook my head.