_V'la ma meilleure robe de sortie_!" She spread out the front widths of her skirt, and certainly the prospect was lamentable.

The dress was so patched and mended, yet so full of fresh rents, that a respectable housemaid would hesitate before using it to clean fire-irons.
"Is that really your best dress ?" he said.
"Yes.

This is my blue serge.

The brown cloth did not survive the soaking it received in salt water.

After a few days it simply crumbled.
The others are muslin or cotton, and have been--er--adapted." "There is plenty of men's clothing," he began.
"Unfortunately there isn't another island," she said, severely.
"No.