Banter he met with so grim a countenance that the facetious soon left him to himself.

He no longer drank, that was evident.

But his face was pale, thin, and unwholesome.

One would have said that just now he was more seriously unhappy than he had been throughout his boisterous period.
Bower, after one or two glances at him, lowered his voice to say: 'I can't think it's altogether the right thing for Thyrza Trent to be there every morning helping him.

Of course you and me know as it's all square, but other people might--eh?
Grail ought to think of that--eh ?' Now it had seemed to Mr.Bower, in his native wisdom, that any scandal about Thyrza would tickle Ackroyd immensely.