I'm very glad Lord Dymchurch was there; very glad.

Go to bed, and sleep as late as you like.

I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself, and I'm very glad Lord Dymchurch was there--very." The voice had become so senile, so indistinct, that May could hardly catch what it said.

She lightly kissed her aunt's cheek--a ceremony that passed between them only when decorum seemed to demand it--and left the room.
On the following morning, Dyce Lashmar received a telegram, couched thus: "Please call at Bunting's Hotel at 3 this afternoon." In order to respond to this summons, he had to break an engagement; but he did it willingly.

Around the hotel in Albemarle Street circled all his thoughts, and he desired nothing more than to direct his steps thither.