“It’s the stir of spring,” he said. It is difficult to express these things. Light flooded the place. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. Amongst others, the watchman whose box was placed against the churchyard wall, near the entrance to Shoe-lane, rushed out and sprung his rattle, which was immediately answered by another rattle from Holborn-bars. “He just wants to get laid, you know. Before I sit down, I have a toast to propose, which I am sure will be received, as it deserves to be, with enthusiasm. “My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. "Take him to the bilbowes. I have a good memory, you perceive, Sir Rowland.
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