The passenger list was fairly large, but not full.

John had assigned to him a seat at a side table.

He was hungry, having had no luncheon but a couple of biscuits and a glass of "bitter," and was taking his first mouthful of Perrier-Jouet, after the soup, and scanning the dinner card when the people at his table came in.
The man of the trio was obviously an invalid of the nervous variety, and the most decided type.

The small, dark woman who took the corner seat at his left was undoubtedly, from the solicitous way in which she adjusted a small shawl about his shoulders--to his querulous uneasiness--his wife.

There was a good deal of white in the dark hair, brushed smoothly back from her face.
A tall girl, with a mass of brown hair under a felt traveling hat, took the corner seat at the man's right.