I will not listen to your verse on an empty stomach!" declared the Vicomte. "You have no soul," said Philippe sadly. "But I have a stomach, and it cries aloud for sustenance." "I weep for you," said Philip. "Why do I waste my poetic gems upon you?

Oh, yes, she's unusual!' he said bitterly. 'She blurts our whatever may come into her head;she tumbles from one outrageous escapade into another;she's happier gromming horses and hobnobbing with stable-hands than going to parties; she's impertinent; you daren't catch her eye for fear she should start to giggle; she hasn't any accomplishments; I never saw anyone with less diginity; she's abominable, and damnably hot at hand, frank to a fault, and-a darling!

You will like her," he persisted. "Egad, she's after your own heart, maman! She shot me in the arm." "Voyons, do you think that is what I like?

Well, you have the right to make a sacrifice of yourself, but I'll be damned if I'll let you sacrifice me!

I have seen what comes of being patient," Amanda said with a boding look. "And I have no opinion of it." "What does come of it?" Inquired Sir Gareth. "Nothing!

When fate is got it in for you, there is no limit to what you may have to put up with.

It was growing late, and though one might stand on the brink of a deep chasm of disaster, one was still obliged to dress for dinner.