The old woman I didn't much care about; but there was a young woman--' Well, why not?
On the other hand, suppose Emma Vine called at his lodgings.

'A young woman called this morning, sir--' Well, why not?
Dessert was on the table.

He saw Adela's fingers take an orange, her other hand holding a little fruit-knife.

Now, who could have imagined that the simple paring of an orange could be achieved at once with such consummate grace and so naturally?
In Richard's country they first bite off a fraction of the skin, then dig away with what of finger-nail may be available.

He knew someone who would assuredly proceed in that way.
Metamorphosis! Richard Mutimer speculates on asthetic problems.
'You, gentlemen, I dare say will be wicked enough to smoke,' remarked Mrs.Waltham, as she rose from the table.
'I tell you what we shall be wicked enough to do, mother,' exclaimed Alfred.