A hundred remembered incidents go to prove it.

I recollect now that Judith has rallied me on my obtuseness.
The sole end of all my Aunt Jessica's manoeuvring is to marry me to Dora, and Dora, like Barkis, is willing.

Marry Dora! The thought is a febrifuge, a sudorific! She would be thumping discords on my wornout strings all day long.

In a month I should be a writhing madman.

I would sooner, infinitely sooner, marry Carlotta.