You'd have thought that this Wickham would have learned at her mother's knee that the last thing a fellow in a highly nervous condition wants, when he's searching someone's room, is a disembodied voice in his immediate ear asking him how he's getting on. The upshot, I need scarcely say, was that I came down like a sack of coals.

I wish, grave governor, 'twere in my power / To favour you; but 'tis my father's cause, / Wherein I may not, nay, I dare not dally.

In Harial dessy copass was used for fine and middling cossaes, fine and superfine hummums and fine middling addaties.

I’ve turned myself into a potty mouth. I swear. Too much.