Well, I must make what use of him I can.
You won't think worse of me because I write for him ?' 'I know that one can't exercise choice in such things.' 'True.

I shouldn't like to think that you regard me as a Fadge-like individual, a natural Fadgeite.' Marian laughed.
'There's no danger of my thinking that.' But the fog was making their eyes water and getting into their throats.
By when they reached Tottenham Court Road they were both thoroughly uncomfortable.

The 'bus had to be waited for, and in the meantime they talked scrappily, coughily.

In the vehicle things were a little better, but here one could not converse with freedom.
'What pestilent conditions of life!' exclaimed Jasper, putting his face rather near to Marian's.

'I wish to goodness we were back in those quiet fields--you remember ?--with the September sun warm about us.