You know that good creature we have our flour and milk and things of.

She is engaged, and he is a painter.

Oh, such daubs! He painted a friend, and the friend sent that home all the way from Natal, and he dashed it down, and SHE picked it up, and what is it?
ground glass, or a pebble, or what ?" "Humph!--by its shape, and the great--brilliancy--and refraction of light, on this angle, where the stone has got polished by rubbing against other stones, in the course of ages, I'm inclined to think it is--a diamond." "A diamond!" shrieked Rosa.

"No wonder my fingers trembled.

Oh, can it be?
Oh, you good, cold-blooded Christie!--Poor things!--Come along, Diamond! Oh you beauty! Oh you duck!" "Don't be in such a hurry.