The eyes looked at him out of the mellow pinks and yellows of the paint with divine friendliness, which embraced him, and passed on to contemplate the entire world.

The paint had so faded that very little but the beautiful large eyes were left, dark in the surrounding dimness.
Katharine waited as though for him to receive a full impression, and then she said: "This is his writing-table.

He used this pen," and she lifted a quill pen and laid it down again.

The writing-table was splashed with old ink, and the pen disheveled in service.

There lay the gigantic gold-rimmed spectacles, ready to his hand, and beneath the table was a pair of large, worn slippers, one of which Katharine picked up, remarking: "I think my grandfather must have been at least twice as large as any one is nowadays.