[…]for on occasions he gives utterance to an entirely uncharacteristic series of cacking notes, and even mounts high in the tree to sing a hesitating medley of the same unmusical cacks, broken whistled calls, and attempted trills.

There was a wide damask covered divan in a shadowy corner, like a casting couch.

Around us, groups of girls with short summer dresses hoicked up to tan their milky white thighs sat on thin jackets and aerated the grass with coy swivellings of their spiky heels.

For those of you with glutards in the flat, substitute the wheat flour for a GF [gluten-free] flour and all of you can enjoy.