Usually he preferred to go out with a scarf round his neck.

Now, however, he made a toilet.

There seemed so much gusto in the way he puffed and swilled as he washed himself, so much alacrity with which he hurried to the mirror in the kitchen, and, bending because it was too low for him, scrupulously parted his wet black hair, that it irritated Mrs.Morel.

He put on a turn-down collar, a black bow, and wore his Sunday tail-coat.
As such, he looked spruce, and what his clothes would not do, his instinct for making the most of his good looks would.
At half-past nine Jerry Purdy came to call for his pal.

Jerry was Morel's bosom friend, and Mrs.Morel disliked him.