Oh, Jo, how could you? Your one beauty.
Cast your bread upon the waters, and after many days it will come back buttered.
I wish I had no heart, it aches so.
Right Jo better be happy old maids than unhappy wives or unmaidenly girls running about to find husbands.
Resolved to take fate by the throat and shake a living out of her.
...a capital patient, as she never died and never got well.