Merely corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative.

I'm really very sorry for you all, but it's an unjust world, and virtue is triumphant only in theatrical performances.

I am the Captain of the Pinafore ; And a right good captain too! . . . . And I'm never, never sick at sea! What, never? No, never! What never? Hardly ever! He's hardly ever sick at sea! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, For the hardy Captain of the Pinafore!

When every blessed thing you have is made of silver, or of gold, you long for simple pewter.

Saturday afternoon, although occurring at regular and well-foreseen intervals, always takes this railway by surprise.

To sit in solemn silence on a dull, dark dock in a pestilential prison with a life-long lock awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock from a cheap and chippy chopper on a big, black block.

There's fish in the sea, no doubt of it, As good as ever came out of it.