" She wanted to dance. I tell you this child would have been strangled. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. He had. She returned to these latter, and at the back of her mind, as she looked them over again, was a very distinct resolve to quote them after the manner of Miss Garvice at the very first opportunity. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. "I wouldn't force him for the world: but if he don't tip the stivers, may I be cursed if he don't get a taste of the aqua pompaginis.
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