There was a peculiar intonation in her complacent voice, which showed she had been expecting him, a little irritably.
He went across into her bar-parlour.

It would not hold more than eight or ten people, all told--just the benches along the walls, the fire between--and two little round tables.
"I began to think you weren't coming," said the landlady, bringing him a whiskey.
She was a large, stout, high-coloured woman, with a fine profile, probably Jewish.

She had chestnut-coloured eyes, quick, intelligent.

Her movements were large and slow, her voice laconic.
"I'm not so late, am I ?" asked Aaron.
"Yes, you are late, I should think." She Looked up at the little clock.
"Close on nine." "I did some shopping," said Aaron, with a quick smile.
"Did you indeed?
That's news, I'm sure.

May we ask what you bought ?" This he did not like.