We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch.

There were only a few patients, and they all knew about it.

If Kerensky had shot a few men things might have been altogether different.

I must have stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall.

In consequence, I’m inclined to reserve all judgements, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores.

I had a dog⁠—at least I had him for a few days until he ran away⁠—and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman, who made my bed and cooked breakfast and muttered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove.