This very little cat, whose back was arched with fury, he was obliged to chase away before his bulldog would come in.

The third thing he noticed was a lame woman of short stature, standing in the doorway of a room.

Her face, with big cheek-bones, and wide-open, light grey, dark-lashed eyes, was broad and patient; she rested her lame leg by holding to the handle of the door.
"I dunno if you'll find anyone upstairs.

I'd go and ask, but my leg's lame." "So I see," said Hilary; "I'm sorry." The woman sighed: "Been like that these five years"; and turned back into her room.
"Is there nothing to be done for it ?" "Well, I did think so once," replied the woman, "but they say the bone's diseased; I neglected it at the start." "Oh dear!" "We hadn't the time to give to it," the woman said defensively, retiring into a room so full of china cups, photographs, coloured prints, waxwork fruits, and other ornaments, that there seemed no room for the enormous bed.
Wishing her good-morning, Hilary began to mount the stairs.

On the first floor he paused.