I have gone out to warm myself a bit by walking, it is freezing indoors and the wood seller has cut off credit.

I broke up the last two rungs of the chair, but they did not burn long enough to cook an egg by.
Besides, the wind comes in through the window as if it were at home, and whispers a great deal of bad advice which it would vex you if I were to listen to.

I prefer to go out a bit; I shall take a look at the shops.

They say that there is some velvet at ten francs a yard.

It is incredible, I must see it.