He had a generous mouth, which he seemed habitually to sew up in a close-drawn seam, but this would suddenly and pleasantly rip in moments of forgetfulness.

Being the collector at this moment, the mouth was tightly stitched.
"Let me begin this way," he said.

"There are exactly six pieces in that house that will prevent my being honest so long as they are not mine.

I am not unmindful of your succor, Major.

I'll prove that to you if you look me up in town,--send me a wire and a room shall be waiting for you,--and I am enraptured by that small and lively brown lady.
Nevertheless I shall remain a collector and, humanly speaking, an ingrate, a wolf, a caitiff, until those six articles are mine.