when the serjeant saw me, he cast his coat and put it on me, and they carried me on their shoulders to a village where the wounded were and our surgeons […].

“It's just a bunch of birdcrap. What's it got to do with Mark Doukas getting whacked?” “I don't know,” I admitted. But deep down I had a feeling there might be a connection. (The Alpine Advocate: An Emma Lord Mystery, page 87, by Mary Daheim, 2010https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1AOHY_enUS727US727&biw=1680&bih=959&tbm=bks&ei=6IOmXJOcG43wsQWy74C4BA&q=%22birdcrap%22&oq=%22birdcrap%22&gs_l=psy-ab.3..33i299k1l3.6566.8260.0.8446.2.2.0.0.0.0.127.225.1j1.2.0....0...1c.1.64.psy-ab..0.2.225....0.GDkXrwZspcg)

Contestants spin a roulettelike wheel that determines how much money they can win (or, sometimes, lose) on a particular turn.

Why a girl like you should be named Shirley is beyond me. You haven't a ruffle or a furbelow anywhere in your nature. Is that meant for an insult? she asked, flushing angrily. No, it's just that it's incongruous. You are the 'give us this day our daily bread' sort of person. Shirley is party stuff.