" "I will carry you to the house, or fetch Mr. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. If I offered you half of my possessions, you'd doubtless wallop me on the jaw. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought.
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