Your mother's a sensible woman.
She'll get back to the hotel, if she isn't there already." "I wish she had not gone.

Father will be tearing his hair and twigging the whole Savoy force by the ears." Crawford smiled.

Readily enough he could conjure up the picture of Mr.
Killigrew, short, thick-set, energetic, raging back and forth in the lobby, offering to buy taxicabs outright, the hotel, and finally the city of London itself; typically money-mad American that he was.
Crawford wanted to laugh, but he compromised by saying: "He must be very careful of that hair of his; he hasn't much left." "And he pulls out a good deal of it on my account.

Poor dad! Why in the world should I marry a title ?" "Why, indeed!" "Mrs.Crawford was beautiful tonight.

There wasn't a beauty at the opera to compare with her.