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Updated: June 1, 2025
Gran said I was grown up now I was coming to Australia. So I wear pyjamas, made out of the same stuff as Dad's," he explained, undressing hurriedly and putting them on with considerable pride. "Last night was the first time I wore them. Only Daddy never looked, with those other men there." A lump came into Marcella's throat as he neatly folded his clothes and laid them in a heap on the floor.
Cranston already had made arrangements for a special engine to run them back up the line, and having issued definite instructions he went back to the private car and unpacked his pyjamas.
At the end of that time he reappeared, but now he was in his pyjamas, over which he wore a heavy dressing-gown. He unlocked the door, and shuffled in his slippers down the stone pathway to the gate. "Who's that?" he asked. "Tarling. You know me," said a voice. "Mr. Tarling?" said Milburgh in surprise. "Really this is an unexpected pleasure. Come in, come in, gentlemen."
He reflected that no doubt many other devices were in preparation to induce him to speak. There was this talk of pineapple which appeared to carry with it some kind of threat. "Pineapple. Why the deuce should pineapple loosen a man's tongue?" he said aloud as he struggled into a pair of pyjamas that had been laid on the bed. "Might make his mouth water perhaps but "
But Doggie crept out of bed and put on a violet dressing-gown that clashed horribly with his pink pyjamas, and wandered like a man in a nightmare to his breakfast. But he could not eat. He swallowed a cup of coffee and sought refuge in his own room. He was frightened. Horribly frightened, caught in a net from which there was no escape not the tiniest break of a mesh.
The patrons of the cafe could sit at the little round tables, drinking their coffee and syrups and aperitifs, and gazing, if they were so minded, at the pyjamas and cravats and Brazilian diamonds spread out for inspection before them. A string orchestra, hidden away somewhere in a gallery, was alternating grand opera with the Gondola Girl and the latest gems of Transatlantic melody.
"Men who are too young or too old, poets in pyjamas, jealous doubtless of the strategists in slippers, regard it as their duty to be lavish in patriotic song. The trumpets of rhetoric blare; invective has become the chosen method of argument; a thousand blue-stockings, under cover of the Red Cross, when one chats with them out strolling, make a parade of spartan sentiments, amazonian impulses.
It was cold in the kitchen, very cold, when a fellow went out clad only in pyjamas, but Osborn briskly lighted that very superior gas-stove and put the super-kettle on. It was extraordinary how completely they were equipped; there was even an extra little set for morning tea for two. He made toast under the grill, with whose abilities he now felt really familiar, and furnished the tray.
Pyjamas, I think, are generally recognized now to be the best form of night gear, as keeping the little limbs warm and covered, when in the restlessness of sleep the child throws off the bedclothes, as well as for other and more vital reasons.
"Get it while he's in the mood." "Let him take his own time," advised Jettison. "But you mark me! he knows a lot! This is only an instalment." Ransford came back with Dick Bewery, clad in a loud patterned and gaily coloured suit of pyjamas. "Now, Dick," said Ransford. "Tell Inspector Mitchington precisely what happened this evening, within your own knowledge."
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