"The best way with a cold is to pretend you haven't got it."
"And I shall always remember the way you sang 'Arcadee,' and 'Nelson and his Gentlemen in Blue.' We were in a box, you know, second tier on the left, my friend Clapham and his five kids—lost their mother last year—and their nannas. They simply howled with joy. That little Marge is a nailer. I should like you to see her, Miss Caspar, and when she grows up she'll be just like you."
Miss Insolence opposite rose in the majesty of black velvet and white ermine.
"Goo'-by."
Arminius received a fin at an angle of sixty-five degrees.
"Jane."
Cousin Jane was so glad to have met Miss Caspar, and before she returned to Cumberland she hoped to have the pleasure of seeing her play Cinderella.
"Well, I'm awfully proud to have met you, Miss Caspar. And I hope you'll bring some of your friends along to the Albany, B4. My number on the telephone is 059 Mayfair, and I'll lay in a stock of cake."
"Delighted!—and you must come and see us, me and my old granny—Mrs. Cathcart—used to play Lady Macbeth to John Peter Kendall and those old swells, although I daresay you can hardly remember
