'But you know, Pam, I can't take half the things you want me to take.

What on earth did you get me a Gieve waistcoat for ?' 'How do you know you won't be going to Mesopotamia ?' 'Well, I don't know; but I don't somehow think it's very likely.
They get their drafts from Egypt, and there's lots of artillery there.' Pamela remembered with annoyance that Miss Bremerton had gently hinted the same thing when the Gieve waistcoat had been unpacked in her presence.

It was true, of course, that she had a brother fighting under General Maude.

That, no doubt, did give her a modest right to speak.
'How old do you think she is ?' said Desmond, nodding in the direction of the library.
'Well, she's over thirty.' 'She doesn't look it.' 'Oh, Desmond, she does!' 'Let's call her the New Broom--Broomie for short,' said Desmond.
'Look here, Pam, I wish you'd try and like her.

I shall have a dreadful hump when I get to camp if I think she's going to make you miserable.' 'Oh, I'll try,' said the girl with dreary resignation.