The Englishman has quite justly been accused of insularity. That in itself is bad, but there is a compound insularity for which no word of English exists, because the state of mind is not realised. It is the citified insularity of London, London’s “urbacity.” I had to coin a word for it.

The 7 got 1 gaol and 1 ruge; the 11 got 1 gaol and 4 ruges

Grobstock began to choke with chagrin.

As Biggs and his party arrived, I heard Hawkins say to Berry, For heaven’s sake, my boy, fib with your right, and mind his left hand!