Just where I happen to be, Rome, Warsaw, Bucharest, anywhere"-- and it is to be noted what fine places these are to happen to be.

And to think that Mr.Rasselyer-Brown would never put his foot outside of the United States! Whereas Mr.Feathertop would come back from what he called a run to Europe, and everybody would learn in a week that he had picked up the back of a violin in Dresden (actually discovered it in a violin shop), and the lid of an Etruscan kettle (he had lighted on it, by pure chance, in a kettle shop in Etruria), and Mrs.Rasselyer-Brown would feel faint with despair at the nonentity of her husband.
So one can understand how heavy her burden was.
"My dear," she often said to her bosom friend, Miss Snagg, "I shouldn't mind things so much" (the things she wouldn't mind were, let us say, the two million dollars of standing timber which Brown Limited, the ominous business name of Mr.Rasselyer-Brown, were buying that year) "if Mr.Rasselyer-Brown _did_ anything.

But he does _nothing_.

Every morning after breakfast off to his wretched office, and never back till dinner, and in the evening nothing but his club, or some business meeting.

One would think he would have more ambition.