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Updated: May 8, 2025
Socks, according to taste very few knickerbocker stockings need be taken, as putties are cheap and usual in Srinagar. Ties the white ones of the cheap sort that can be thrown away after use, with a light heart. Handkerchiefs, and a few pairs of white gloves. Sleeping-suits, both thick for camp work and light for hot weather, should be taken. Dress suit and dinner-jacket.
“One dozen shirts,” he read, “four under-flannels, four pair socks, one dozen handkerchiefs, two sleeping-suits—marked Francis Beveridge! the account rendered to Dr G. Twiddel! What in the name of wonderment is the meaning of this?” He sat down with the bill in his hand and gazed hard at it. “Precisely my outfit,” he said to himself. “Am I—Does it——? What a rum thing!”
Everything was as before in the ship except that two of her captain's sleeping-suits were simultaneously in use, one motionless in the cuddy, the other keeping very still in the captain's stateroom. It must be explained here that my cabin had the form of the capital letter L the door being within the angle and opening into the short part of the letter.
I had grown used to seeing piles of sleeping-suits, sleeping-bags, trench slippers, warm underclothes, sabots, all that is comprised in the word vêtement; but here were also immense boxes of books and magazines, donated by different firms and editors, about to be shipped to the dépôts; games of every sort; charming photogravures, sketches, prints, pictures, that would make the baraques gay and beloved all to be interspersed, however, with mottoes from famous writers calculated to elevate not only the morale but the morals of the idle.
"You sure don't wear them pants, miss at night? Not reely?" she exclaimed in horrified tones. The girl's smile hardened. "Why, yes. Lots of girls wear sleeping-suits nowadays." "You don't say!" The old woman pursed up her lips in strong disapproval. Then, with a disdainful sniff, she went on "Wot gals ain't comin' to I don't know, I'm sure.
"Wallis," said his master dreamily when his man appeared again, "I want some more real clothes. Tired of sleeping-suits. Get me some, please. Good-night." As for Phyllis, in her little green-and-white room above him, she was crying comfortably into her pillow. She had not the faintest idea why, except that she liked doing it.
The four, stripped to the thinnest of sleeping-suits, played whist crossly, with wranglings as to leads and returns. It was not the best kind of whist, but they had taken some trouble to arrive at it.
However, those poor women were very thankful for the work and sewed faithfully on sleeping-suits and underclothing for poilus in the trenches and hospitals. Madame Waddington's friends in America responded to her call for help and M. Mygatt gave her rooms on the ground floor of his building in the Boulevard Haussmann.
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