"You're most as proud of that car as I am," she said; "it's sort of your car, too, isn't it?"
Smith was burrowing into the interior of things, and had already succeeded in smearing his fingers with grease within three minutes of becoming a Chevalier.
"Fact is, ma'am," he answered, "it is my car, in a way. You see, my mother's name is Hilda, same as yours. My mother, she gave half-a-crown for it."
WITH THE AMBULANCE
We were carrying a dead man among the living.
"Take him out and leave him," ordered our officer; "it is bad for the wounded men riding next to him and under him."