Wallingford lock! they answered. Lor' love you, sir, that’s been done away with for over a year. There ain't no Wallingford lock now, sir. You’re close to Cleeve now. Blow me tight if 'ere ain't a gentleman been looking for Wallingford lock, Bill!

The little Italian party, before alluded to, had collected around the piano. The white and plump fingers of the gay and black-eyed daughter of the Roman marchioness were tripping lightly up and down the octaves of the instrument, and her little tastefully arranged head was merrily dancing from side to side, keeping time to the half-improvised phantasia, which trickled like a wayward stream from her hands.

A detective asking you to buy illegal marijuana for a dying man would be police entrapment.

You don’t make much money selling gas because the markup is so low.