“I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister,' said he, as he joined her.'You certainly do,' she replied with a smile; 'but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.”

“Pray do not interrupt me," he wrote. "I am smiling.”

“Kate," Lucern interrupted."What?" she asked warily."I do not need blood." He tugged her off balance and into his lap. "All I need is you.”

“{Calpurnia)"My mother…she’s desperate for a daughter she can dress like a porcelain doll. Sadly, I shall never be such a child. How I long for my sister to come out and distract the countess from my person."He joined her on the bench, asking, "How old is your sister?""Eight," she said, mournfully."Ah. Not ideal.""An understatement." She looked up at the star-filled sky. "No, I shall be long on the shelf by the time she makes her debut.""What makes you so certain you’re shelf-bound?"She cast him a sidelong glance. "While I appreciate your chivalry, my lord, your feigned ignorance insults us both." When he failed to reply, she stared down at her hands, and replied, "My choices are rather limited.""How so?""I seem able to have my pick of the impoverished, the aged, and the deadly dull.”

“Wives?" she asked, interrupting him. For a moment, he had assumed she was tuning to the novel. Then he saw her waiting, suspicious eyes, so he replied cautiously, "None active," as if wives were volcanoes.”

“Will interrupted. "Henry," he said, "you're on fire. You do know that, don't you?”