They looked through a chink in the blind and saw that long cigars were being smoked in the dining-room; they saw Mr.Ambrose throw himself violently against the back of his chair, while Mr.Pepper crinkled his cheeks as though they had been cut in wood.

The ghost of a roar of laughter came out to them, and was drowned at once in the wind.

In the dry yellow-lighted room Mr.Pepper and Mr.Ambrose were oblivious of all tumult; they were in Cambridge, and it was probably about the year 1875.
"They're old friends," said Helen, smiling at the sight.

"Now, is there a room for us to sit in ?" Rachel opened a door.
"It's more like a landing than a room," she said.

Indeed it had nothing of the shut stationary character of a room on shore.