So they kept playing at cross-purposes, without either getting much out of the other.

Jawleyford's intimacy with Lord Scamperdale seemed to have diminished with propinquity, for he now no longer talked of him--'Scamperdale this, and Scamperdale that--Scamperdale, with whom he could do anything he liked'; but he called him 'My Lord Scamperdale,' and spoke of him in a reverent and becoming way.

Distance often lends boldness to the tongue, as the poet Campbell says it: Lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
There are few great men who haven't a dozen people, at least, who 'keep them right,' as they call it.

To hear some of the creatures talk, one would fancy a lord was a lunatic as a matter of course.
Spigot at last put an end to their efforts by announcing that 'tea and coffee were ready!' just as Mr.Sponge buzzed his bottle of port.

They then adjourned from the gloom of the large oak-wainscoted dining-room, to the effulgent radiance of the well-lit, highly gilt, drawing-room, where our fair friends had commenced talking Mr.Sponge over as soon as they retired from the dining-room..