I should have gone under a dozen times if you hadn't held me up and lugged me about.

Oh, dear, now we must put on our clothes again--what a barbarism clothes are! I do hate them so, don't you?
But I suppose there's no help for it.
"Rise, Lubin, rise, and twitch thy mantle blue; To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
"Oh, do help me to screw on my leg.

That's it.

I say, it's a quarter-past one! We must hurry up, or Aunt Charlotte will be cursing.
What _does_ it matter if one eats at half-past one or at a quarter to two?
I really am very fond of Aunt Charlotte, you know, though I find it awfully difficult to educate her.

I sometimes despair of ever being able to bring her up properly at all, she is so hopelessly Early Victorian, poor thing.