His two rooms were at the top, and he had converted a garret into a dark chamber for his photographic amusement.

Dirt and disorder made the sitting-room very uninviting; Rolfe looked about him, and wondered what principle of corruption was at work in the young man's life.
Morphew showed a new portrait of his betrothed, Henrietta Winter; a comely face, shadowed with pensiveness.

'Taken at Torquay; she sent it a day or two ago .-- I've been thinking of giving her up.

If I do, I shall do it brutally and savagely, to make it easy for her.

I've spoilt her life, and I'm pretty sure I've ruined my own.' He brought out a bottle of whisky and half filled two tumblers.