He ate heavy meat three times a day, but took little or no exercise.

The pimples on his face became worse and worse.
He grew peevish and nervous.

He hated girls, and when in their society was a very bull-calf for bashfulness and awkward self-consciousness.

At times the strangest and most morbid fancies took possession of him, chief of which was that every one was looking at him while he was walking in the street.
Vandover was a good little boy.

Every night he said his prayers, going down upon his huge knees at the side of his bed.