[…] but considering Julian was nowhere to be found, it felt almost right for her to download 27 Dresses or something equally chick-flickish and zone out.

'Well, Mr. Frodo,' he said. 'I'm in a bit of a fix. Rose and me had settled to call him Frodo, with your leave; but it's not him, it's her. Though as pretty a maidchild as anyone could hope for, taking after Rose more than me, luckily. So we don't know what to do.'

It often seemed to Mallet that he wholly lacked the prime requisite of a graceful flaneur—the simple, sensuous, confident relish of pleasure.

creamy milk