"I've not the slightest doubt of that," returned the old lady with asperity.
"Austin knows about everything, my dear," replied the old lady decisively.
"It'll buy the old lady what she wants for the house, anyhow," he said.
When she died I pasted the dear old lady's photograph inside the upper lid.
This widow was the old lady who lived in the cottage in the New Forest.
It was Monday afternoon before we reached the old lady's house.
Disappeared, too, the old lady from Chicago, and the others.
The old lady began to seem to him a thought too discursive, if not hilarious.
"Yes, they do say so," interrupted the old lady under the figured veil.
She tried to guess what there was in it, that the old lady could possibly want.