Those men oughtn't to be called cowards.

It's as much a fit, say, as epilepsy.

Allowances ought to made for them." It was a warm day, the windows were closed, my valetudinarian hostess having a horror of draughts, and a cheery fire was blazing up the chimney.

Boyce took out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead.
"Dear old mother," said he, "you keep this room like an oven." "It is you who have got so excited talking, dear," said Mrs.Boyce.
"I'm sure it can't be good for your heart.

It is just the same with me.
I remember I had to speak quite severely to Mary a week--no, to-day's Tuesday--ten days ago, and I had dreadful palpitations afterwards and broke out into a profuse perspiration and had to send for Doctor Miles." "Now, that's funny," said I."When I'm excited about anything I grow quite cold." Boyce lit a cigarette and laughed.