Every now and then he spoke so rapidly that I could hardly follow him.

Then there were pauses in which he seemed lost, and abrupt changes of subject, as if he could hardly control the order of his thoughts.

And in all the evident strain and anxiety to say everything that he wished to say to me appeared that morbid fancy of its being "the last time." After we had talked for some time he said, "Life goes wonderfully fast, Regie, though you may not think so just now.

I do so well remember being a child myself.

I was eight years old, I think, when I prayed for money enough to buy a _Fuchsia coccinea_ (they had not been in England more than ten or twelve years then).