The soft, stained deerskin was cleverly embroidered; he liked the warm colors of the enamel, and going in was shown a tray of spoons.
The shop, shut in by high buildings, was dark and smelt of aromatic wood and leather, but a beam from a window pierced the gloom and sparkled on the silver.

This was emblazoned with the arms of the Provinces; the Ship, the Wheatsheaves, and the red Maple Leaf.

Lister picked up the articles, and while he did so was vaguely conscious that a girl at the opposite counter studied him.

He, however, did not look up until he had selected a few of the spoons, and then he started.
The light that touched the girl's face did not illuminate it all.

Her profile was sharp as an old daguerreotype: he saw the flowing line from brow to chin, drawn with something of austere classic beauty, the arched lips and the faint indication of a gently-rounded cheek.