I must go to her presently.

You know David Vavasour Williams ?--Davy! You really _must_ leave out your second name! It gets so fatiguing having to say it every time I introduce you." Armstrong bows stiffly and David, standing with one well-shaped foot in a neat boot on the curb of the fireplace, looks up and returns the bow.
_Honoria_: "This won't do.

You are two of my dearest friends, and yet you hardly greet one another.

I always determined from the age of fifteen onwards I would never pass my life as men and women in a novel do--letting misunderstandings creep on and on where fifty words might settle them.

_Army!_ You've often asked me to marry you--or at least so I've understood your broken sentences.