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"Dinner, one small lean chop, slice of toast, spinach or lettuce salad. No dessert or sweet." My poultry-yard is full of fat little chickens, and I wish I were a sheep if I have to eat lettuce and spinach for grass. At least I'd have more than one chop inside me then. "You!" I exclaimed, crowding still closer, or at least trying to. "It's not you; it's I that am killed, and you did it! I know you don't really want me, but I can't help that. I'd rather you do the suffering with me than to do it myself away from you. I'm so hungry and thirsty for you that—that I can't diet any longer!". I put the case the strongest way I knew how. "I no hear him say anytink about Obi," she replied; "but de spell; it say you marry dat man and no de yaller-ha'r.".
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Conrad
The waiter, a broad-faced Belgian, rushed forward with a smile of genuine welcome and a flourish of the spotless towel which he wore upon his left shoulder, and, with a few murmured words in French, motioned them to a table by the front window. "He must be a nice boy," returned the Class Beauty, with lagging interest and a shade of condescension in her manner. "Of course, he's young yet. I thought he was Kendall Major's twin." CHAPTER XVII FAREWELL TO THE STUDIO "Will you take the dogcart?".
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