Probably few private libraries in England could boast such an array of Scandinavian literature as was here exhibited.

As a matter of course the rooms had accumulated even more dirt than one expects in a bachelor's retreat; they were redolent of the fume of many pipes.
When Glazzard tapped at the inner door and entered, his friend, who sat at the writing-table in evening costume, threw up his arms, stretched himself, and yawned noisily.
"Working at your book ?" asked the other.
"No; letters.

I don't care for the Sea-Kings just now.

They're rather remote old dogs, after all, you know." "Distinctly, I should say." "A queer thing, on the whole, that I can stick so to them.

But I like their spirit.