He had a long, thin face, dark, narrow eyes, unwholesome complexion, a slightly hooked nose, and teeth discoloured through constant smoking.

His fingers, too, bore the tell-tale yellow stains.
"Mr.Ledsam," he said, "I think, with your permission, I should like to leave at the end of my next three months." Francis glanced across at him.
"Sorry to hear that, Fawsitt.

Are you going to work for any one else ?" "I haven't made arrangements yet, sir," the young man replied.

"I thought of offering myself to Mr.Barnes." "Why do you want to leave me ?" Francis asked.
"There isn't enough for me to do, sir." Francis lit his pipe.
"It's probably just a lull, Fawsitt," he remarked.
"I don't think so, sir." "The devil! You've been gossiping with some of these solicitors' clerks, Fawsitt." "I shouldn't call it gossiping, sir.

I am always interested to hear anything that may concern our--my future.