But Condy overdid the matter.

His scarfs and cravats were too bright, his colored shirt-bosoms were too broadly barred, his waistcoats too extreme.

Even Travis, as she rose to his abrupt entrance?
told herself that of a Sunday evening a pink shirt and scarlet tie were a combination hardly to be forgiven.
Condy shook her hand in both of his, then rushed over to Mr.Bessemer, exclaiming between breaths: "Don't get up, sir--don't THINK of it! Heavens! I'm disgustingly late.

You're all through.

My watch--this beastly watch of mine--I can't imagine how I came to be so late.