Daniel Tuxbury was very methodical in his care for himself, and was loath to attend to any business after six o'clock.
Mrs.Field sat like a bolt of iron while the lawyer talked to her.
Unless a direct question demanded it, she never spoke herself.

But he did not seem to notice it; he had enough garnered-in complacency to delight himself, as a bee with its own honey.

He rarely realized it when another person did not talk.
After one of his pauses, he sprang up with alacrity.

"Mrs.Maxwell, will you be so kind as to excuse me for a moment ?" said he, and went out of the office with a fussy hitch, as if he wore invisible petticoats.

Mrs.Field heard his voice in the yard.
When he returned there was an old lady following in his wake.