“Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. By this time, the churchyard was crowded with spectators, some of whom dispersed in different directions in quest of the other robber. He looked fiercely and inquiringly from one to the other of his companions; but, though both of them were excessively frightened, neither appeared guilty. The truth was impossible, indecent. It was clear that he meant to kiss her before she exited the car. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall.
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