Alexia,” she hissed to her friend, “there are knees positively everywhere. What do I do?

Oh, Lady Maccon, I am unreservedly in love with her. That black hair, that sweet disposition, those capital hats.

Alexia gave in to his demanding touch, but only, of course, because he sounded so pathetic. It had nothing, whatsoever to do with her own quickening heartbeat.

Lady Maccon cogitated. She would like to encourage this new spirit of social-mindedness. If Felicity needed anything in her life, it was a cause. Then she might stop nitpicking everyone else.

It's no good choosing your first husband from a school for evil geniuses. Much too difficult to kill.

As with most things in life, Lady Maccon preferred the civilized exterior to the dark underbelly (with the exception of pork products, of course.)

I love him so very much. As Romeo did Jugurtha, as Pyramid did Thirsty, as-" "Oh, please, no need to elaborate further," interjected Alexia, wincing. "But what would my family SAY to such a union?" "They would say that yours hats had leaked into your head," muttered Alexia, unheard under her breath.