Signior Riccabocca had become very intimate, as we have seen, at the Parsonage. But not so at the Hall. For though the Squire was inclined to be very friendly to all his neighbours he was, like most country gentlemen, rather easily huffed.

What are you talking about? Five years of work and a hundred miles of electrified fence couldn't prepare the other island. And you think that, what? A couple dozen Marlboro men were going to make a difference here?

The lies, twattles, and contrivances about this affair, are innumerable.

The strapping bloke with the belonephobia was taken to a doctor who said, "We'll cut you and squeeze a few drops onto the card. […]