The walls are whitewashed and the tables are as plain as the chairs, but the food and drink that are consumed there are the best that the house affords, and the society, from the point of view of Marzio Pandolfi and his friends, is of the most agreeable.
The chiseller took his favourite seat in the corner furthest from the window.

Two or three men of widely different types were already at the table, and Marzio exchanged a friendly nod with each.

One was a florid man of large proportions, dressed in the height of the fashion and with scrupulous neatness.

He was a jeweller.

Another, a lawyer with a keen and anxious face, wore a tightly-buttoned frock coat and a black tie.
Immense starched cuffs covered his bony hands and part of his fingers.
He was supping on a salad, into which he from time to time poured an additional dose of vinegar.