In the amity I speak of,they intermix and confound themselves one in the other,with so universal a commixture,that they weave out and can no more find the seam that has conjoined them together.
The Card Room seems to speak of a thousand games of whist and bridge and the Gold Room, especially as the westering sun burnishes its teak ceiling, is the ideal place for a pre-dinner sherry.
If there were any inhabitants of the moon, they would see our earth reflecting the light of the sun, again like a huge mirror hung in the sky. They would speak of earthlight just as we speak of moonlight.