About him there seemed ever to linger a faint spicy aroma of strong drink, and he would talk freely to those sharing the bench with him.

His voice was full and rich in tone, and his speech, deliberate and precise, more than hinted that he had once been an ornament of the speaking stage.

His wife, also, was friendly of manner, and spoke in a deep contralto somewhat roughened by wear but still notable.
The daughter Merton did not like.

She was not unattractive in appearance, though her features were far off the screen-heroine model, her nose being too short, her mouth too large, her cheekbones too prominent, and her chin too square.

Indeed, she resembled too closely her father, who, as a man, could carry such things more becomingly.
She was a slangy chit, much too free and easy in her ways, Merton considered, and revealing a self-confidence that amounted almost to impudence.