The windows of all three looked out upon the piazza.
He said a great number of times that he was sorry that he had brought up his daughter without giving me warning; but that the maid had set her heart on it and would take no denial.

(This I presently discovered to be wholly false.) For a week, he said, and no more, I should be discommoded; and after that, when I had come back from Hare Street, I should be able to entertain my friends in peace.
I answered him, of course, with the proper compliments; but I liked his manner less than ever.

He was too boisterous, I thought, on a first meeting; and too hearty in his expressions of goodwill.

When we were set down to supper, he began again, with what I thought a good deal of indiscretion.
"So you are come from Rome!" he said loudly, "and from a monastery too, as I hear.

Well, no man loves a monk more than I do--in their monasteries; but I am glad you are not to be one.