She didn't mention him, and I talked at least five minutes with her." "Hand me my dressing-sack," said Mrs.March, "and poke those things on the sofa under the berth.

Shut up that wash-stand, and pull the curtain across that hideous window.

Stop! Throw those towels into your berth.
Put my shoes, and your slippers into the shoe-bag on the door.

Slip the brushes into that other bag.

Beat the dent out of the sofa cushion that your head has made.