I find seven-layer cake a bit too rich.

Poor Mr. Orme! I am sorry he is not well. It is cruel in you, Lucy, at this time, to say (so undoubtingly) that his illness is owing to his love of me.

I am, sir, The soldier that did company these three In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for The purpose I then follow'd.

And I have no hesitation in saying, “we three”—viz., Aaron Jessell, William Green, and Friday, were a match for any six handsellers then on the road, masters or men.