Coming suddenly in from the darkness, she hesitated a moment, but in that moment recovered her sight and took in the scene.
The air was thick with tobacco smoke, and the odor of it, in the close room, was sickening to one fresh from the pure outside.

On the table a column of steam was ascending from the big mixing-pan.

The Virgin, fleeing before Cornell, was defending herself with a long mustard spoon.

Evading him and watching her chance, she continually daubed his nose and cheeks with the yellow smear.

Blanche had twisted about from the stove to see the fun, and Del Bishop, with a mug at rest half-way to his lips, was applauding the successive strokes.