Some Folk Want Their Luck Buttered.

That It Would Always Be Summer And Autumn, And You Always Courting Me, And Always Thinking As Much Of Me As You Have Done Through The Past Summertime!

You Don't Talk Quite Like A Girl Who Has Had No Advantages.

He's Charmed By Her As If She Were Some Fairy!" Continued Arabella. "see How He Looks Round At Her, And Lets His Eyes Rest On Her. I Am Inclined To Think That She Don't Care For Him Quite So Much As He Does For Her. She's Not A Particular Warm-hearted Creature To My Thinking, Though She Cares For Him Pretty Middling Much-- As Much As She's Able To; And He Could Make Her Heart Ache A Bit If He Liked To Try--which He's Too Simple To Do.

He Wished She Knew His Impressions; But He Would As Soon Have Thought Of Carrying An Odour In A Net As Of Attempting To Convey The Intangibilities Of His Feeling In The Coarse Meshes Of Language. So He Remained Silent.

Silence Has Sometimes A Remarkable Power Of Showing Itself As The Disembodied Soul Of Feeling Wandering Without Its Carcase, And It Is Then More Impressive Than Speech.