How I wish we could be real friends! Try me as a real friend.

Come! Don't fancy me a frumpy old married woman, my dear; I was married but the other day, you know; I am dressed as a bride now, you see.

About the chimney-sweeps ?' 'Hush! Ma'll hear.' 'She can't hear from where she sits.' 'Don't you be too sure of that,' said Miss Podsnap, in a lower voice.
'Well, what I mean is, that they seem to enjoy it.' 'And that perhaps you would have enjoyed it, if you had been one of them ?' Miss Podsnap nodded significantly.
'Then you don't enjoy it now ?' 'How is it possible ?' said Miss Podsnap.

'Oh it is such a dreadful thing! If I was wicked enough--and strong enough--to kill anybody, it should be my partner.' This was such an entirely new view of the Terpsichorean art as socially practised, that Mrs Lammle looked at her young friend in some astonishment.

Her young friend sat nervously twiddling her fingers in a pinioned attitude, as if she were trying to hide her elbows.