I shall never forget her kindness; for though she could never see anybody crying without crying herself, she did not, and was quiet as a mouse, because she knew how her voice hurt me.

There's a large print-shop in one of the great streets of London, with coloured views of Italy.

I used to go there once, and stand there for I don't know how long, looking at them, and trying to get those Jew gentlemen--" "Call them Jews--they're not gentlemen," interposed Wilfrid.
"Jews," she obeyed the dictate, "out of my mind.

When I saw the views of Italy they danced and grinned up and down the pictures.

Oh, horrible! There was no singing for me then.