He had struck out unaided for himself, and his success was due solely to his own intelligence, industry, and foresight.
He squared his great shoulders till the blue gingham of his jumper all but cracked.

Of late, his great blond beard had grown and the work in the sun had made his face very red.

Under the visor of his cap--relic of his engineering days--his blue eyes twinkled with vast good-nature.

He felt that he made a fine figure as he went by a group of young girls in lawns and muslins and garden hats on their way to the Post Office.

He wondered if they looked after him, wondered if they had heard that he was in a fair way to become a rich man.
But the chronometer in the window of the jewelry store warned him that time was passing.