"_Cut ze caggle_--cabital! I soggest in zat Ebisode we haf a Ballet." "A Ballet ?" "A Ballet of Imberial Exbansion--ze first English discofferies ofer sea--ze natives brought back in brocession to mek sobmission--" "Devilish pretty substitute for Thomas Cromwell and the Reformation!" "It was _zere_ lay ze future of Englandt, _hein_ ?" "I see," said Brother Copas thoughtfully; "provided you make the ballets of our nation, you don't care if your brother makes its laws." These preparations (he noted) had a small byproduct pleasantly affecting St.Hospital.

Mr.Colt, in his anxiety to enlist the whole-hearted services of the Brethren (who according to design were to serve as a sort of subsidiary chorus to the Pageant, appearing and reappearing, still in their antique garb, in a succession of scenes supposed to extend over many centuries), had suddenly taken the line of being 'all things to all men,' and sensibly relaxed the zeal of his proselytising as well as the rigour of certain regulations offensive to the more Protestant of his flock.
"You may growl," said Brother Copas to Brother Warboise: "but this silly Pageant is bringing us more peace than half a dozen Petitions." Brother Warboise was, in fact, growling because for three months and more nothing had been heard of the Petition.
"You may depend," said Copas soothingly, "the Bishop put the thing away in his skirt pocket and forgot all about it.

I happen to know that he must be averse to turning out his skirt pockets, for I once saw him surreptitiously smuggle away a mayonnaise sandwich there.
It was at a Deanery garden party; and I, having been invited to hand the ices and look picturesque, went on looking picturesque and pretended not to see.

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