Corfe, who was again impeccably afternoonified, in black boots and a pink-and-white striped waistcoat under his navy suit, drew himself taller for a moment.

Having supped the season's fill of absinthean and dopish horror, the playgoer may now, if he likes, take the milk-and-watery way to bed. Fortunately, there are other ways of enjoying oneself in the theatre besides just listening to the play.

Now a survey of the section from Urumchi to the Ala Shan Pass, on the Soviet border, has been finished, and the roadbed has reached the northern side of the T’ien Shan [23].

My family has just rediscovered tiddlywinks. […] [I] haven't quite worked out the boondock!