When he once said to Ann, "The man is unneat and common," she replied, "No, he is homely, but neither vulgar nor common.

I hate his emotional performances, but the man is good, James." "Then I do wish, Ann, he would button his waistcoat and pull up his socks." Now he looked about him with some unusual attention.

There was no carpet.
A set of oddly coloured chairs and settees which would have pleased Ann, a square mahogany table set on elephantine legs, completed the furnishings of a whitewashed room, where the flies, driven indoors by cool weather, buzzed on window glasses dull with dust.

The back room had only a writing-table, a small case of theological books, and two or three much used volumes of American history.

Penhallow looked around him with unusually awakened pity.