Robert and Susan were so in love with each other that nobody could go near them without feeling like a gooseberry.
The dreames (brave mates) that did beset my bed, / When sleepe but newly had imbrast the night, / Commaunds me leave these unrenowmed reames […]
He got so thoroughly into the jocund spirit that he didn’t much mind seeing Tanis drooping against the shoulder of the youngest and milkiest of the young men […]
You’re as superstitious as my father, who, if he had his way, would have my neck ajingle with his holy medals.
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