I Was Told Once That The Most

I‟m Going To Kill Her,” Francesca Said To No One In Particular. Which Was Probably A Good Thing, As There Was No One Else Present. “who Are You Talking To?” Hyacinth Demanded. “god,” Francesca Said Baldly. “and I Do Believe I Have Been Given Divine Leave To Murder You.” “hmmph,” Was Hyacinth‟s Response. “if It Was That Easy, I‟d Have Asked Permission To Eliminate Half The Ton Years Ago.” Francesca Decided Just Then That Not All Of Hyacinth‟s Statements Required A Rejoinder. In Fact, Few Of Them Did.

Francesca: It's Still A Bit Cold Yet. Michael: Never Stopped John And Me. Francesca: Yes, Well, You're Scottish. Your Blood Circulates Quite Well Half Frozen.

A Man With Charm Is An Entertaining Thing, And A Man With Looks Is, Ofcourse, A Sight To Behold, But A Man With Honor - Ah, He Is The One, Dear Reader, To Which Young Ladies Should Flock.

Besides," He Said Breezily, "were It Not For Misunderstandings, We Would Be Sadly Lacking In Great Literature." She Looked At Him Questioningly. "where Would Romeo And Juliet Be?" "alive.

He Ought To Buy Her A New Dress. She Would Never Accept It, Of Course, But Maybe If Her Current Garments Were Accidentally Burned... ...but How Could He Manage To Burn Her Dress? She'd Have To Not Be Wearing It, And That Posed A Certain Challenge In And Of Itself.