I'll not weary you with details.

Time was needed for this as for all things, and by next spring, perhaps, had matters gone well, this vineyard that so carefully and secretly I have been tending, would have been, maybe, in condition to bear fruit.

Even now, in the hour of my flight, I learn that others have come to force this delicate growth into sudden maturity.

There! Soon ripe, soon rotten.

The Duke of Monmouth has landed at Lyme this morning.