Fitzgerald felt sorry for him, and once the desire came to go over and buy out the Neapolitan; but he was too comfortable where he was, and beyond that he was expecting a friend.
Fitzgerald was thirty, with a clean-shaven, lean, and eager face, russet in tone, well offset by the fine blue eyes which had the faculty of seeing little and big things at the same time.

He had dissipated in a trifling fashion, but the healthy, active life he lived in the open more than counteracted the effects.

A lonely orphan, possessing a lively imagination, is seldom free from some vice or other.

There had never been, however, what the world is pleased to term entanglements.
His guardian angel gave him a light step whenever there was any social thin ice.

Oh, he had some relatives; but as they were neither very rich nor very poor, they seldom annoyed one another.