When at last Mr. Alderman Flapp emerged, swathed in a comforter and in a flowing self-consciousness of equity, Mr. Flipp approached on the tips of his holeful boots, and whispered, I am the dirty crossing-man; are you the dirty crossing-boy? — and in another moment they were locked in each others' arms.

You need to patch things up with your sister after that horrible argument.

She looked at him, all eagerness and trust, full of feist and fun, unlike any woman he'd met before. After only a few hours, he felt as if he'd known her forever.

[…] it was rumour’d that an order of the Government was to be issued out, to place Turn-pikes and Barriers on the Road, to prevent Peoples travelling;