The colour of a sandpit was given him by hair and whiskers of yellow-red on a ruddy face.

No one could express a negative more emphatically without wording it, though he neither frowned nor gesticulated to that effect.
'Ah!' said Con, abruptly coming to an end after an eloquent appeal.

'And I think I'm of your opinion: and the sea no longer dashes at the rock, but makes itself a mirror to the same.

She'll keep her money and nurse her babe, and not be trying risky adventures to turn him into a reigning prince.

Only this: you'll have to persuade her the thing is impossible.
She'll not take it from any of us.