The floors shook constantly with the incessant thud of the great looms that filled each story, like heavy, monotonous thunder.

It deafened her, made her dizzy, as she went down slowly.

It was no short walk to reach the lower hall, but she was down at last.

Doors opened from it into the ground-floor ware-rooms; glancing in, she saw vast, dingy recesses of boxes piled up to the dark ceilings.

There was a crowd of porters and draymen cracking their whips, and lounging on the trucks by the door, waiting for loads, talking politics, and smoking.
The smell of tobacco, copperas, and burning logwood was heavy to clamminess here.