She was a stout, broad-faced woman, smiling-mouthed most of the time, with blurry, gray Irish eyes, and a touch of red in her hair, now modified by grayness.

Her cheek, below the mouth, on the left side, was sharply accented by a large wen.
"Children! children!" (Mr.Butler, for all his commercial and political responsibility, was as much a child to her as any.) "Youse mustn't quarrel now.

Come now.

Give your father the tomatoes." There was an Irish maid serving at table; but plates were passed from one to the other just the same.

A heavily ornamented chandelier, holding sixteen imitation candles in white porcelain, hung low over the table and was brightly lighted, another offense to Aileen.
"Mama, how often have I told you not to say 'youse' ?" pleaded Norah, very much disheartened by her mother's grammatical errors.