Browning was bitter and bracing, he was like iron and quinine, and by the way she had better take a little of both.

Then when he met her again he would ask, "Have you been taking any more Browning, Miss Quincey ?" and while Miss Quincey owned with a blush that she had, he would look at her and say she wanted a change--a little Tennyson and a lighter tonic; strychnine and arsenic was the thing.
And Mrs.Moon still wondered.

"I never saw anything like the indelicacy of that young man," said she.

"You're running up a pretty long bill, I can tell you." Oh, yes, a long, long bill; for we pay heavily for our pleasures in this sad world, Juliana!.