Jim took his bowler hat and gave him a chair.

He sat without looking round, a remote, abstract look on his face.

He was very pale, and seemed-inwardly absorbed.
The party threw off their wraps and sat around.

Josephine turned to Aaron Sisson, who sat with a glass of whiskey in his hand, rather slack in his chair, in his thickish overcoat.

He did not want to drink.