I'll use them for an article on contemporary style; it occurred to me this afternoon.' He smiled grimly.

Mrs Yule's face exhibited much contentment, which became radiant joy when her husband remarked casually that the custard was very well made to-day.

Dinner over, he rose without ceremony and went off to his study.
The man had suffered much and toiled stupendously.

It was not inexplicable that dyspepsia, and many another ill that literary flesh is heir to, racked him sore.
Go back to the days when he was an assistant at a bookseller's in Holborn.

Already ambition devoured him, and the genuine love of knowledge goaded his brain.