“You know,” he said thoughtfully, his mind far away from the Colinqueaus, “I think that new bloke′s a bit of tray bon. The bayonet instructors would go absolutely fanti if they heard him, wouldn′t they? He sounded as mad as a maggot.[…]”
[…]all the clerks were waving: “Au revoir, Sally.” “Mmmm, tray bon, y′all!” She flashed the peace sign again and clattered away in her ankle-strap shoes like a crack of sunshine on a foggy day.
