When I like to see people, I hate their going away.

I'm afraid sometimes that Michael will go away, but he tells me he won't.

And you liked Michael's music, Miss Falbe?
Was it not clever of him to think of all that out of one simple little tune?
And he tells me you sing so nicely.

Perhaps you would sing to us when we've had tea.

Oh, and here is my sister-in-law.