I've put off being honest as long as I can, but can't well manage it any longer.

I send you back the money in English bank- notes, and another hundred for interest.

It won't do you much good, but I reckon I'll sleep better at night to have got rid of it.

I saw in the papers the death of my sister, and her son, my nephew.

Such is life! I got more good from that marriage than she did.