They were wearing kikwembe (a shawl worn by Congolese women) over their uniforms, and women's headscarves.

“Come, come,” said James, putting his hand to his nose and winking at his cousin with a pair of vinous eyes, “no jokes, old boy; no trying it on on me. You want to trot me out, but it’s no go. In vino veritas, old boy […]”

The feeling is difficult to describe, but not unpleasant.

If you're going downtown anyway, could you return these books to the library while you're at it?