At the tomb they halted, as all good Americans do, and Mr.Gore, in a tone of subdued sorrow, delivered a short address-- "It might be much worse if they improved it," he said, surveying its proportions with the aesthetic eye of a cultured Bostonian.

"As it stands, this tomb is a simple misfortune which might befall any of us; we should not grieve over it too much.

What would our feelings be if a Congressional committee reconstructed it of white marble with Gothic pepper-pots, and gilded it inside on machine-moulded stucco!" Madeleine, however, insisted that the tomb, as it stood, was the only restless spot about the quiet landscape, and that it contradicted all her ideas about repose in the grave.

Ratcliffe wondered what she meant.
They passed on, wandering across the lawn, and through the house.

Their eyes, weary of the harsh colours and forms of the city, took pleasure in the worn wainscots and the stained walls.