The next time my noble friend was persuaded to go, there was a cock-fight, incidental to a Cuban romance.

The third visit we beheld a lady who was dying for five minutes, rolling her eyes about in a way that was fearful to see.

The convert was not made.
It is too easy to produce an unprovoked murder, an inexplicable arson, neither led up to nor followed by the ordinary human history of such acts, and therefore as arbitrary as the deeds of idiots or the insane.

A villainous hate, an alleged love, a violent death, are flashed at us, without being in any sort of tableau logic.

The public is ceaselessly played upon by tactless devices.