Ser Dunaver's squire Jodge could not hold his water when he slept.

Once I managed to combine something in which I had included also roach pulp and galleyworm legs.

No commonplace, rosy, close-shaved bourgeois are there; no tight, trim, pale, eager shopkeeperesses, such as lately sold you bad gloves in the Rue d’Antin, or gave you short change for a guinea in the Marais.

Klannish political culture offered a way of life, a sense of purpose, and a worldview that drew on the ordinary racism and intolerance of white Protestant society[…]