Sair expenses all of them!" "Hang your reflections! Has Sir Patrick left the inn ?" The reflections of Mr.Bishopriggs declined to be disposed of in any thing approaching to a summary way.

On they flowed from their parent source, as slowly and as smoothly as ever! "Noo ye're married to her, there's her bonnets and goons and under-clothin'-- her ribbons, laces, furbelows, and fallals.

A sair expense again!" "What is the expense of cutting your reflections short, Mr.
Bishopriggs ?" "Thirdly, and lastly, if ye canna agree wi' her as time gaes on--if there's incompaitibeelity of temper betwixt ye--in short, if ye want a wee bit separation, hech, Sirs! ye pet yer hand in yer poaket, and come to an aimicable understandin' wi' her in that way.

Or, maybe she takes ye into Court, and pets _her_ hand in your poaket, and comes to a hoastile understandin' wi' ye there.

Show me a woman--and I'll show ye a man not far off wha' has mair expenses on his back than he ever bairgained for." Arnold's patience would last no longer--he turned to the door.