Behind stood quart and pint measures, dram-glasses, tin funnels and beer-bottles pushed right up to the wall to make room.

His wide-open eyes stared up at the once white-washed beams of the ceiling, and one side of his face was drawn up into a grin, which made him look as if he were unspeakably disgusted with the dirty ceiling.
A big man sat at the door.

Silla knew him: he was the public-house bear, as he was called; he who turned people out for Mrs.Selvig.He was sitting silent on the bench.
There was perfect stillness in the room; she heard only the drip from the tap of the brandy-cask down into the dish beneath, and saw, through the half-open door to the inner room, Mrs.Selvig and her two daughters bustling about on tiptoe.
A young man in spectacles entered.

He asked a few rapid questions, while he opened a case of instruments on the counter at the feet of the prostrate figure.

He listened at its chest with the stethoscope and without it, and shook his head, pulled out a lancet, and pushed the shirt sleeve up the hanging arm.
"Hold the sleeve, so that it doesn't slip down!" he said with a glance up at Silla; he took her to be a member of the household.
The lancet pierced and pierced again.