I heard about the earthquake on the morning news.

It was a casual sneer, obviously one of a long line. There was hatred behind it, but of a quiet, chronic type, nothing new or unduly virulent, and he was taken aback by the flicker of amazed incredulity that passed over the younger man's ravaged face. Toberman was disconcerted. ‘What's the matter?’ he demanded truculently.

A regular package here would give you six pieces of 1K tungsten lights, ten pieces of inky-dinkies, one HMI if you're lucky.

His pancakes were never just ordinary pancakes: they were airy creations mushroomed in sauce, or they were crepes suzette. Eggs were shirred, mornayed or benedicted.