‘What meaner vice
Crawls there than that which no affections urge,
And no delights refine?’
It
‘Changes enterprise
To squalid greediness, makes heaven-born hope
A shivering fever, and in vile collapse
Leaves the exhausted heart without one fibre
Impell’d by generous passion.’”
“Really, ’pon my honour—why, you two fair ladies must have been studying elocution and all that sort of thing lately,” said Richard, flicking off the top of a young ash-plant with his cane.