Think of it, do you suppose it was?
It almost amounts to our occupying the same room.

I don't know--why, really--do you think I should speak to the landlady about it?
He bound pamphlets last night until half-past nine.
They say that he's the younger son of a baronet; that there are reasons for his not coming to the title; his stepfather wronged him cruelly." No one had ever said such a thing.

It was preposterous to imagine any mystery connected with Old Grannis.

Miss Baker had chosen to invent the little fiction, had created the title and the unjust stepfather from some dim memories of the novels of her girlhood.
She took her place in the operating chair.

McTeague began the filling.
There was a long silence.