The marks of hobnailed boots patterned the floor; loose mud, and crumbs from meals, had been swept into corners or under the stretcher-bed; while commodities that had overflowed the shop added to the disorder.

Good Lord, no! ...

no place this for a woman.
He rose and moved restlessly about, turning things over with his foot: these old papers should be burnt, and that heap of straw-packing; those empty sardine and coffee-tins be thrown into the refuse-pit.

Scrubbed and clean, it was by no means an uncomfortable room; and the stove drew well.

He was proud of his stove; many houses had not even a chimney.