"I would like to be, for your mother's sake," she said.
Winston understood that while Courthorne's iniquities were not to be brought up against him, the little gentle-voiced lady had but taken him on trial; but, perhaps because it was so long since any woman had spoken kindly words to him, his heart went out towards her, and he felt a curious desire to compel her good opinion.

Then he found himself seated near the head of the long table, with Maud Barrington on his other hand, and had an uncomfortable feeling that most of the faces were turned somewhat frequently in his direction.

It is also possible that he would have betrayed himself, had he been burdened with self-consciousness, but the long, bitter struggle he had fought alone, had purged him of petty weaknesses and left him the closer grasp of essential things, with the strength of character which is one and the same in all men who possess it, whatever may be their upbringing.
During a lull in the voices, Maud Barrington, who may have felt it incumbent on her to show him some scant civility, turned towards him as she said, "I am afraid our conversation will not appeal to you.

Partly because there is so little else to interest us, we talk wheat throughout the year at Silverdale." "Well," said Winston with a curious little smile, "wheat as a topic is not quite new to me.

In fact, I know almost more about cereals than some folks would care to do." "In the shape of elevator warrants or Winnipeg market margins, presumably ?" Winston's eyes twinkled, though he understood the implication.