Fat little American legs flashed back again.
Next instant came delighted cackle from among the ivy-roots:
"Blazes! Ef 'tain't Tart an' CAKE!"
M. W. B.
The Art of Modern Novel-Writing.
OLD STYLE.
"Do you always choose such an early hour as this for your daily rambles?" he asked.
"Not always," she said, "but very often."
"And is it because the freshness of the morning tempts you out, or because you like to be alone?"
"I rather think it is because I like to be alone."