Eurydice pointed to the cupboard, and sat down on the low divan with folded hands, and looked at the floor.

[…] telling me I was a wonderful cunt lapper […]

I will throw you the ball, and you catch it.

Aha! said I, here is the Jack Pudding. I see he has forgot his broomstick and gridiron; he'll compensate for these wants, I suppose, by his wit and humour