You must be famished.

Come straight in to breakfast.

Your father is already at the table, George.

Poor man, he has to start downtown so dreadfully early." Bright, effusive, vivacious, and as emphatically Southern as if she had never left Franklin Street, Mrs.Fowler took off Gabriella's hat and coat, kissed her several times while she was doing so, and at last, still talking animatedly, led them into the dining-room.
"Archibald, here they are," she said in a tone of unaffected delight, while a thin, serious-looking man, with anxious eyes, pale, aristocratic features, and skin that had a curious parchment-like texture, put down the _Times_, and came forward to meet them.

Though he did not speak as he kissed her, Gabriella felt that there was sincere, if detached, friendliness in his little pat on her shoulder.