He looked thin, pale, and careworn; and the new growth of hair on his chin did not add to his good looks.

After our third trial he got stout again, and it was I who scaled less and less.

Perhaps his shoemaking gave him a better appetite; and perhaps I studied too much for the quantity and quality of prison blood.
Each of was accommodated with a four-wheeler, and a warder armed with a cutlass to guard us from all danger.

It was a beautiful spring morning, and the sunlight looked glorious as we rattled down the Caledonian Road.
I felt new-born.

The early flowers in the street barrows were miracles of loveliness, and the very vegetables had a supernal charm.