I am almost sure that he has knocked his leg; but he flew into a fury when I wanted to examine it; and when I made a poultice, there was Saracen devouring it; and the nasty dog swallowed one of my lace handkerchiefs." "Then surely you are unjust, Eliza, in lamenting all lack of mischief.
But I have noticed things as well as you.

And yesterday I saw something more portentous than anything you have told me.

I came upon Lancelot suddenly, in the last place where I should have looked for him.

He was positively in the library, and reading--reading a real book." "A book, Phillppa! Oh, that settles everything.

He must have gone altogether out of his sane mind." "Not only was it a book, but even a book of what people call poetry.