And luck cometh out in nothing clearer than in the kind of folk we meet.

But the Lord in heaven ordereth all.

I speak like a poor heathen." "Oh, never mind that!" I cried: "only tell me, were you in time to save--to save--" I could not bear to say what I wanted.
"In plenty of time, my dear; thanks to you.

You must have fought when you could not fight: the real stuff, I call it.

Your poor father lies where none can harm him.