During washing, the red from the rug ran onto the white sheet, staining it pink.

A small lofty room, with its window wide open, and the wooden jalousie-blinds closed, so that the dark night only showed in slight horizontal lines of black, alternating with their broad lines of stone colour.

Never at any time in its history has there been so much universal anger at and criticism of the Southern. The railway's staunchest friends must concede that most of it is justified.

Did I mention that when I was fifteen I took it out of my pants and whacked off on the 107 bus from New York?