Along yet another corridor he dashed, and then there were owls everywhere, and Mrs. Norris was hissing and trying to bat them with her paws, no doubt to return them to their proper place. . . .
He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind.
I'm still trying on the fertility journey, even though it is emotional and you get hopeful, and then you know, your hopes are dashed. So I feel for any woman going through it.