"I am going to break a Bates record and kiss you good-bye, when you go.

I probably shan't have another in years.

Come on." They walked up the grassy wooden walk, stepped on the tiny, vine-covered porch, and lifted and dropped a rusty old iron knocker.
Almost at once the door opened, to reveal a woman of respectable appearance, a trifle past middle age.

She made Kate think of dried sage because she had a dried-out look and her complexion, hair, and eyes were all that colour.

She was neat and clean while the hall into which she invited them was clean and had a wholesome odour.