“Sorry, love, they all look the same to me,” said Dad, desperately trying to spot one with a particularly pink nose. “Armitage? ARMITAGE!” called Zoe. All the rats eeked.Every single one of them wanted to escape. “We’ll just have to set them all free,” said Zoe.
2017, Fiona Farrell,Decline and Fall on Savage Street,→ISBN, page104:
Sybil had picked armfuls of lilies and daisies and roses from the garden andevery single gladiolus, gathering them in the earliest morning when they were fresh and packing them carefully into an applebox on the carrier of her bike.
