He seemed to be set at a great height above mundane troubles, and to look down on men like a benignant God.

His soul glowed with a happy warmth.
But somewhere he was devilish cold.

His wretched body was beginning to cry out with discomfort.

A loop of his hat was broken and the loose flap was a conduit for the rain down his back.

His old ridingcoat was like a dish-clout, and he felt icy about the middle.