At the same time, his free movements passed easily into swagger, and as he talked on, the false notes were not few.
A working man gifted with brains and comeliness must, be sure of it, pay penalties for his prominence.
Quite another man was Daniel Dabbs: in him you saw the proletarian pure and simple.

He was thick-set, square-shouldered, rolling in gait; he walked with head bent forward and eyes glancing uneasily, as if from lack of self-confidence.

His wiry black hair shone with grease, and no accuracy of razor-play would make his chin white.

A man of immense strength, but bull-necked and altogether ungainly--his heavy fist, with its black veins and terrific knuckles, suggested primitive methods of settling dispute; the stumpy fingers, engrimed hopelessly, and the filthy broken nails, showed how he wrought for a living.

His face, if you examined it without prejudice, was not ill to look upon; there was much good humour about the mouth, and the eyes, shrewd enough, could glimmer a kindly light His laughter was roof-shaking--always a good sign in a man.
'And what have _you_ got to say of these fine doings, Mr.Dabbs ?' Mrs.
Mutimer asked him.
'Why, it's like this 'era, Mrs.Mutimer,' Daniel began, having seated himself, with hands on widely-parted knees.