“What you may mean, George Sampson, by your omnibus-driving expressions, I cannot pretend to imagine. Neither,” said Miss Lavinia, “ Mr. George Sampson, do I wish to imagine. It is enough for me to know in my own heart that I am not going to⁠—” having imprudently got into a sentence without providing a way out of it, Miss Lavinia was constrained to close with “going to it.” A weak conclusion which, however, derived some appearance of strength from disdain.

“Oh yes!” cried Mr. Sampson, with bitterness. “Thus it ever is. I never⁠—”

“If you mean to say,” Miss Lavvy cut him short, “that you never brought up a young gazelle, you may save yourself the trouble, because nobody in this carriage supposes that you ever did. We know you better.” (As if this were a home-thrust.)