Poetry can cause irreparable harm when misapplied

Lord Maccon reflected upon the state of his life wherein he had somehow gained a spouse who could not give a pig's foot for the latest dresses out of Paris but who whined about not owning an aethographic transmitter. Well, at least the two were comparable obsessions so far as expense was concerned.

She was no closer to determining who might want her dead. There were just too many possibilities.

Really, Channing,” remonstrated Alexia, “did you have to eat the man’s dog? I am convinced you will experience terrible indigestion.

What do you want?" Sophronia was moved to exasperation. "Me? Stockings and breeches to come back in fashion. I do miss seeing a man's calves.

I believe there is a considerable range in the bang of most guns.

Someone was trying to kill Lady Alexia Maccon. It was most inconvenient, as she was in a dreadful hurry. Given her previous familiarity with near-death experiences and their comparative frequency with regards to her good self, Alexia should probably have allowed extra time for such a predictable happenstance.