This business of naturalizing myself, I mean.

I am going to marry that very charming girl--a great friend of yours, by the way, I know her to be--Miss Milburn." For accepting the strokes of fate we have curiously trivial demonstrations.

Lorne met Hesketh's eye with the steadiness of a lion's in his own; the unusual thing he did was to take his hands out of his pockets and let his arms hang loosely by his side.

It was as tragic a gesture of helplessness as if he had flung them above his head.
"Dora is going to marry you ?" "I believe she will do me that honour.

And I consider it an honour.
Miss Milburn will compare with any English girl I ever met.