[…] she said, sharply, if we women had great fists as big as yours there might be a juster spurting of noseblood, Broad One.

[…] at first, the sudden insertion of scathing irreligiosities into the mouth of such a previously unflappable character seems a merely academic gesture.

The continuous rain washed out the cricket match.

They are some of the finest old stumpified staring trees I ever saw, with a small waterfall, rocks of all shapes &c &c.