You laugh, and I laugh--not a bad sort of life, you think--a good deal of pleasure, after all, to be got out of it.

If a man must work he might do worse.

_O you poor souls!_' The speaker stopped, as though mastering himself.

His face worked with emotion; his last words had been almost a cry of pain.

After the easy give and take of the opening, this change was electrical.
David felt his hand tremble on his knee.
'Answer me this!' cried the preacher, his nervous cotton-spinner's hand outstretched.