Muff

Selwyn, sitting up rumpled and cross-legged on the floor, after having boloed Drina to everybody's exquisite satisfaction, looked around at the sudden rustle of skirts to catch a glimpse of a vanishing figure—a glimmer of ruddy hair and the white curve of a youthful face, half-buried in a muff.

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Can you fancy that such an old creature (an old muff, as you call him, you wicked, satirical man!) could ever make en impression on my heart?

[…]being good is so much like being a muff, generally.

But then, supposing this was the real sign? … They had muffed three already; they daren’t muff the fourth.

Here was the superlative opportunity to make a generous and lasting settlement from a position of strength; but the pieds noirs, like the Israelis, and from not altogether dissimilar motives, were to muff it.

Skinny lattes and a couple of blueberry muffs.

“They’re^([sic]) ARE thinking how sexy you look, Muff”. She heard it as plain as day. She turned, half expecting to see her Jim grinning at her. […] “Oh James!” Marsha smiled, […]