The governess was not much liked in the village. She was too tall, too fond of books, too grave, and, a curious thing, never smiled unless there was something to smile at.

He screamed. Mmm?' inquired the gentleman. I...I would never presume to interrupt you, sir. But the ground appears to be swallowing me up.' It is a bog,' said the gentleman, helpfully. It is certainly a most terrifying substance.

There is nothing in the world so easy to explain as failure - it is, after all, what everybody does all the time.

And how shall I think of you?' He considered a moment and then laughed. 'Think of me with my nose in a book!

you must learn to live as I do - in the face of constant criticism, opposition and censure. That, sir, is the English way.

Ha!' said the tall man drily. 'He was in high luck. Rich old uncles who die are in shockingly short supply.

How quickly was every bad thing discovered to be the fault of the previous administration (an evil set of men who wedded general stupidity to wickedness of purpose).