I was wearing them, but they drooped, so I put them into water to revive them." She turned back again to her work, and the clicking of the machine began anew.

He leant to inhale the smell of the violets.

Then, with a glance at her bent head, he drew one from the bunch, and, taking a pocket-book out of his coat-pocket, he opened it, and laid the violet between two of its pages.
While he waited he looked about him.

The ugliness of the room did not affect him.

The flaring gas, the business-like furniture, the unhomely aspect of the place, did not depress him.