I think nothing is more dreary than a long breakfast-table, laid for large numbers, with half a dozen picnicking at it among the debris left by earlier ravages.

Evelyn, behind the great silver urn, looked pale and preoccupied, and had very little to say for herself when I journeyed up to her end of the table and sat down by her.

She asked me twice if I took sugar, and was not bright and alert and ready in conversation, as I think girls should be.

Carr, too, was eating his breakfast in silence beside Mrs.Marston.
It was not cheerful.

And then Charles came in, listless and tired, and without an appetite.