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Updated: May 22, 2025
"I cannot encourage you, Mr. de Brabazon. My heart is free, but it can never be yours." "Then," said Percy, gloomily, "there is only one thing for me to do." "What is that?" "I shall go to the Bwooklyn Bwidge, climb to the parapet, jump into the water, and end my misewable life." "You had better think twice before adopting such a desperate resolution, Mr. de Brabazon.
I don't think I have ever been so misewable in my life as duwing the last year!" Peggy looked at her thoughtfully. At the moment Rosalind looked dismal enough, but recalling the occasions when she had seen her in society, Peggy could not honestly say that "wretched" was the word which best described her demeanour.
I'm not good enough to help you, I'm afraid, but I can't help loving you, you dear, beautiful thing, and wishing to make you happy!" "But, oh, Peggy, I'm misewable! I'm abjectly misewable!" sighed Rosalind in return.
Yes, Rosa Staines, your husband drives his brougham out at night, not to visit any other lady, as that anonymous wretch told you, but to make a few misewable shillings for you." "Oh, Christie!" "It is no use, Dr. Staines; I must and will tell her. My dear, he drove ME three nights ago. He had a cabman's badge on his poor arm. If you knew what I suffered in those five minutes!
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