The very word "furlough" made me sick then.
I feel fainty now whenever I think of furlough.

It has a sickening sound in the ring of it--"furlough!" "Furloch," it ought to have been called.
Every man I met had a furlough; in fact, it seemed to have the very double-extract of romance about it--"fur too, eh ?" Men who I knew had never been in the army in their lives, all had furloughs.

Where so many men ever got furloughs from I never knew; but I know now.

They were like the old bachelor who married the widow with ten children--he married a "ready-made" family.

They had ready-made furloughs.