What’s wrong with you? Are you ill? I forbid you to be ill, wife.

His eyes are peculiar. There is nothing in them, like an eclair without the cream filling. It's wrong, lack of cream.

Biffy didn't like enigmas - they were out of fashion.

I am entirely capable." "Of what, waddling up to someone and ruthlessly bumping into them?

Oh, Professor Lyall, are you making a funny? It doesn’t suit you.” The sandy-haired Beta gave Lady Maccon a dour look. “I am exploring new personality avenues.” “Well, stop it.” “Yes, my lady.

I never gossip. I observe. And then relay my observations to practically everyone.

Why? I mean, why you? I can perfectly comprehend not liking my husband. I dislike him intensely most of the time.” Professor Lyall stifled a chuckle. “I am given to understand that he does not approve of spelling one’ s name with two ll’s. He finds it inexcusably Welsh. I suspect he may be quite taken with you, however.