He went mostly into the company of men, was always at the George or the White Horse.

His mother was ill, distant, quiet, shadowy.

He was terrified of something; he dared not look at her.

Her eyes seemed to grow darker, her face more waxen; still she dragged about at her work.
At Whitsuntide he said he would go to Blackpool for four days with his friend Newton.

The latter was a big, jolly fellow, with a touch of the bounder about him.