“Oh, Lady Maccon, I am unreservedly in love with her. That black hair, that sweet disposition, those capital hats.”

“Oh, Professor Lyall, are you making a funny? It doesn’t suit you.” The sandy-haired Beta gave Lady Maccon a dour look. “I am exploring new personality avenues.” “Well, stop it.” “Yes, my lady.”

“I could lose myself forever in that dark hair and those sweet love handles.”

“The Bear and the Maiden FairA bear there was, a bear, a bear!All black and brown, and covered with hair!The bear! The bear!Oh, come, they said, oh come to the fair!The fair? Said he, but I'm a bear!All black, and brown, and covered with hair!And Down the road from here to there.From here! To There!Three boys, a goat, and a dancing bear![He] danced and spun, all the way to the Fair!The Fair! The Fair![...]Oh, sweet she was, and pure, and fair!The maid with honey in her hair!Her hair! Her hair!The maid with honey in her hair![The bear,] smelled the scent on the summer air.The bear! The bear!All black and brown and covered with hair.He smelled the scent on the summer air!He sniffed and roared and smelled it there!Honey on the summer air!Oh, I'm a maid, and I'm pure and fair!I'll never dance with a hairy bear!A bear! A bear!I'll never dance with a hairy bear!He lifted her high into the air!The bear! The bear!I called for a knight, but you're a bear!A bear! A bear!All black and brown and covered with hair!She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair,But he licked the honey from her hair,Her hair! Her hair!Then she sighed and squealed and kicked the air!My bear! She sang. My bear so fair!And off they went, from here to there,The bear, the bear, and the maiden fair.~"The Bear and the Maiden Fair",”

“Lady Maccon.” “By George, Boots! How the deuce can you possibly tell that there is Lady Maccon?” queried the other top-hated gentleman. “Who else would be standing in the middle of a street on full-moon night with a raging ruddy fire behind her, waving a parasol about?” “Good point, good point.”

“And there was this sweet-looking little old lady with her white hair in a bun and everything, the typical grandmother type, and she was swearing her head off. I guess Alzheimer's had brought out her inner sailor.”