They know what trouble he takes for them, and there's nobody dares cheek him.

But they don't understand him.
He's too shy.

Wasn't it good fortune for me that he happens to be my friend ?" And he began to talk at headlong speed, and with considerable eloquence, of Sorell's virtues and accomplishments.

Constance, who had been brought up in a southern country, liked the eloquence.

Something in her was already tired of the slangy brevities that do duty in England for conversation.