Not that one would insult old Lady Barborough by calling her clean.

How often d'you think, Hilda," he called out to his wife, "her ladyship takes a bath ?" "I should hardly like to say, Hugh," Mrs.Elliot tittered, "but wearing puce velvet, as she does even on the hottest August day, it somehow doesn't show." "Pepper, you have me," said Mr.Elliot.

"My chess is even worse than I remembered." He accepted his defeat with great equanimity, because he really wished to talk.
He drew his chair beside Mr.Wilfrid Flushing, the newcomer.
"Are these at all in your line ?" he asked, pointing at a case in front of them, where highly polished crosses, jewels, and bits of embroidery, the work of the natives, were displayed to tempt visitors.
"Shams, all of them," said Mr.Flushing briefly.

"This rug, now, isn't at all bad." He stopped and picked up a piece of the rug at their feet.
"Not old, of course, but the design is quite in the right tradition.
Alice, lend me your brooch.

See the difference between the old work and the new." A lady, who was reading with great concentration, unfastened her brooch and gave it to her husband without looking at him or acknowledging the tentative bow which Mr.Elliot was desirous of giving her.