Shama had maintained her martyr’s attitude throughout, sitting on the low bench, her skirt draped over her knees, one hand supporting her chin, her staring eyes misting over with tears.

[…] their favoring breeze has the stink of nickel whiskey on its breath, and their sea is a growler of lager and ale […]

[…] word was, some men were getting their demob quicker than others.

The fichu is made in such a manner that it can at pleasure be either at the neck or in the center of the back, or at the waist, according as the fichu is arranged, more or less forward in front. For ladies who are unwilling to wear tight-fitting garments in the street without something to conceal the figure, these plaited fichus are most convenient; … These fichus are trimmed with bows, and are made according to the taste of the wearer.