That wouldn't be bad," said Bobbie.
"When _I_ get married," said Phyllis, "I shall want him to want me to be awake all the time, so that I can hear him say how nice I am." "I think it would be nice," said Bobbie, "to marry someone very poor, and then you'd do all the work and he'd love you most frightfully, and see the blue wood smoke curling up among the trees from the domestic hearth as he came home from work every night.

I say--we've got to answer that letter and say that the time and place WILL be convenient to us.
There's the soap, Peter.

WE'RE both as clean as clean.

That pink box of writing paper you had on your birthday, Phil." It took some time to arrange what should be said.

Mother had gone back to her writing, and several sheets of pink paper with scalloped gilt edges and green four-leaved shamrocks in the corner were spoiled before the three had decided what to say.