"Oh, Malcolm, what a dreadful woman and what a miserable place!" "Oh I don't know," he returned.

"Mrs.Martin's bark's worse than her bite, and one can see she is fond of the child.

We may as well buy that doll, Anna, and then we will have some luncheon.

There is a place I know where they do cutlets remarkably well, and their ices are capital," and then they set out in search of a toy-shop.
The shop where Malcolm proposed they should eat their luncheon had an upper window overhanging Piccadilly.

Here they secured a small table to themselves.
At first Anna seemed a little thoughtful and abstracted.