I'll have to go away." "Think," said the other, "think that at this moment somewhere in the country there are great, cool, deep woods and lakes and waterfalls, and we might be sitting in flannels instead of being clothed in these garments of sin." "Think," said George, "of nothing of the kind.

Think of high upland glens and full brown rivers, and hillsides where there is always wind.
Why do I tantalize myself and talk to a vexatious idiot like you ?" This young man had a deep voice, a most emphatic manner of speech, and a trick of cheerfully abusing his friends which they rather liked than otherwise.
"And why should I sit opposite six feet of foolishness which can give me no comfort?
Whew! But I think I am getting cool at last.

I have sworn to make use of my first half-hour of reasonable temperature and consequent clearness of mind to plan flight from this place." "May I come with you, my pretty maid?
I am hideously sick of July in town.

I know Mabel will never forgive me, but I must risk it." Mabel was the young man's sister, and the friendship between the two was a perpetual joke.

As a small girl she had been wont to con eagerly her brother's cricketing achievements, for George had been a famous cricketer, and annually went crazy with excitement at the Eton and Harrow match.