He was a large and dirty man.
The shabby old house was occupied with its customary life.

Down in the kitchen Ellen the cook was snatching a moment from her labours to drink a cup of tea.

She sat at the deal table, her full bosom pressed by the boards, her saucer balanced on her hand; she blew, with little heaving pants, at her tea to cool it.

Her thoughts were with a new hat and some red roses with which she would trim it; she looked out with little shivers of content at the falling winter's dusk: Anne the kitchen-maid scoured the pans; her bony frame seemed to rattle as she scrubbed with her red hands; she was happy because she was hungry and there would be a beef-steak pudding for dinner.

She sang to herself as she worked.
Upstairs in the dining-room Maggie Cardinal, the only child of the Rev.
Charles, sat sewing.