"What do you make out of it all ?" "I make out that I hope he'll not involve himself in some French and Tory mad attempt!" "What do his letters say ?" "They speak by indirection.

Moreover, they're at present few and short....

We shall see when he comes!" "Do you think that he will tell you all ?" Alexander's gray eyes glanced at her as earlier they had glanced at Mr.Wotherspoon.

"I do not think that we keep much from each other!...
No, of course you are right! If there is anything that in honor he cannot tell, or that I--with my pledges, such as they are, in another urn--may not hear, we shall find silences.

I pin my trust to there being nothing, after all!" "The old wreath withered, and a new one better woven and more evergreen--" "I do not know....