From the shoulders swung a little, false hussar jacket, lined with the same flaring yellow.

The vizor-less cap was similarly warmed up with the hue of the perfected sunflower.

Their saffron magnificence was like the gorgeous gold of the lilies of the field, and Solomon in all his glory could not have beau arrayed like one of them.

I hope he was not.

I want to retain my respect for him.