Oh, if we could meet some one we knew--even if it were some one that we rather disliked than otherwise: some one that would laugh and have as few wits as I, and be _young_.
But it is too early in the year for many people to be yet abroad, and, so far, we have fallen upon no acquaintances.

Once, indeed, at Antwerp, I see in the distance a man whose figure bears a striking resemblance to that of "Toothless Jack," and my heart leaps--detestable as I have always thought Barbara's aspirant; but on coming nearer the likeness disappears, and I relapse into depression.
Long ago, I had told my husband--on the first day I had made his acquaintance indeed--that I had no conversation, and now he is proving experimentally the truth of my confession.

At home, our talk has always been made up of allusions, half-words, petrified witticisms, that have become part of our language.

Each sentence would require a dictionary of explanation to any strange hearer.

_Now_, if I wish to be understood, I must say my meaning in plain English, and very laborious I find it.
To-day, we are on our way from Cologne to Dresden; sixteen hours and a half at a stretch.