"To give you your due, I think you have paid off handsomely any grudge you may owe in that quarter."
"There is consolation in that. Tell me—you are of the out-spoken sort—are you not of my opinion? Let me know your mind. Mr. Stubb is——"
"A puppy."
"And the Primroses are——"
"Uninteresting."
"For uninteresting, say insufferable. If Lucifer wishes to gain me over to his side, let Mrs. Primrose be made my guardian angel, and his work is done."
"Your horse has cast a shoe," said Morton, abruptly,—"yes; and he is lame besides."
"It is this broken, stony road. I wish we were at the end of it."
"So do I. If the clouds would break for a moment, and show us the sun, I could form some idea of the direction we are following."
"Why," said Fanny, in alarm, looking at her watch, "the sun must be very near setting."