He couldnae weel tell how - maybe it was the cauld to his feet - but it cam' in upon him wi' a spate that there was some connection between thir twa, an' that either or baith o' them were bogles.

The police were on the pavement outside; the knifed man lay holding his side with blood through his fingers spreading up his cheap shirt like litmus paper turning red.

Well, — that quiet, staid, Dutchly, phlegmatic little town went fairly wild at the sight of the slender, fair-haired boy.

This chicken is a bit under. (insufficiently cooked)