In the law-office he had constantly been confronted with the possibility of debt.

Here he was free from it.

He had been smoking, as usual, and there was about his garments an odor of mingled coffee and tobacco.
He had been selling coffee, and grinding some.

One of his two salesmen was ill, and that was why he was so late.

The new carriage rolled silently on its rubber tires along the macadamized road; the high black polish and plate-glass flashed in the sunlight, the coachman in livery sat proudly erect and held his whip stylishly, the sleek horses pranced, seeming scarcely to touch the road with their dainty hoofs.
"Those are fine horses," said Randolph.
"Yes," assented his mother.