His dimpled and clean-shaven chin was strong, and the line of his lips firm.

His eyes were steady and penetrating, giving an impression of reticence.

His hands were slender and brown, and soft in the palms as those of a girl.
The citizens marveled over him as he moved slowly through the streets, thinking himself quite indistinguishable among the other young men in dark suits and linen collars.
Waiting was most difficult, and to remain indoors was impossible, so he walked steadily about the town.

As he returned from the river road for the fifth time, the bells began to ring for church, filling him with other memories of his youth, of his father and his pulpit, and brought to his mind also the sudden recollection of one of Jack's letters, wherein he mentioned Mary's singing in the choir.

If she were at home she would be singing yet, he argued, and set forth definitely to find her.
To inquire was out of the question--so he started in at the largest church with intent to make the rounds.