"Pride is too hampering a quality for a knight of industry to keep in his equipment." "Tell me how you met him," she said.
I rapidly sketched the whole absurd history, from my encounter with Anastasius Papadopoulos in Marseilles to my parting with him on the previous night.

I softened down, as much as I could, the fleshiness of Captain Vauvenarde and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck, but I portrayed the villainous physiognomies of his associates very neatly.

I concluded by repeating my assertion that our project had proved itself to be abortive.
"He must be pretty miserable," said Lola.
"Devil a bit," said I.
She did not answer, but settled herself more comfortably in the carriage and relapsed into mournful silence.

I, having said my say, lit a cigarette.

Save for the clanging past of an upward or downward tram, the creeping drive up the hill through the long winding street was very quiet; and as we mounted higher and left the shops behind, the only sounds that broke the afternoon stillness were the driver's raucous admonition to his horses and the wind in the trees by the wayside.