He's got style, and knows how to dress, and you ought to see the kid bow and scrape, and how he carries himself.

Now, Van Loo wasn't exactly my style, and I reckon I don't hanker after him much, but he served my purpose." "And this man knows"-- she said, with a shudder.
"He knows Steptoe and the boy, but he don't know Horncastle nor YOU.
Don't you be skeert.

He's the last man in the world who would hanker to see me or the kid again, or would dare to say that he ever had! Lord! I'd like to see his fastidious mug if me and Eddy walked in upon him and his high-toned mother and sister some arternoon." He threw himself back and laughed a derisive, spasmodic, choking laugh, which was so far from being genial that it even seemed to indicate a lively appreciation of pain in others rather than of pleasure in himself.

He had often laughed at her in the same way.
"And where is he now ?" she said, with a compressed lip.
"At school.

Where, I don't tell you.