"I have only this--and it is very ugly," she remarked again.

"I should like a pink dress." We crossed Trafalgar Square, and I saw by Big Ben that it was a quarter to six.

I could not drive through London with her for an indefinite period.

Besides, my half past seven dinner awaited me.
Why, oh, why has Judith gone to Paris?
Had she been in town I could have shot Carlotta into Tottenham Mansions, and gone home to my dinner and Cristoforo da Costa with a light heart.

Judith would have found Carlotta vastly entertaining.