But it was the bed-maker with a mop, and a disapproving countenance, who looked out presently.
"He's gone, Mrs.Jillings," said Jack.
Mrs.Jillings sniffed.

She had heard tales of the auction and thought it a very improper thing for so pleasant a young gentleman to do.
"Yes, sir." "There isn't a saddle here, is there ?" "Saddle, sir?
No, sir.

What should there be a saddle here for ?" "Oh, well," said Jack vaguely.

"I've come to fetch away the hammock, anyhow." Certainly the rooms looked desolate.

Even the carpets were gone, and the unstained boards in the middle seemed suggestive of peculiar dreariness.
It was really very difficult to believe that these were the rooms where he and Frank had had such pleasant times--little friendly bridge-parties, and dinners, and absurd theatricals, in which Frank had sustained, with extreme rapidity, with the aid of hardly any properties except a rouge-pot, a burnt cork and three or four wisps of hair of various shades, the part of almost any eminent authority in the University of Cambridge that you cared to name.