Ralph Stock

“ He nodded toward the open doorway, through which glimpsed the blue Pacific, reflecting the clear sunlight in a myriad points of flashing light.
“Ah, but that's because you've seen both,” said Meg. “This is new to you—that would be new to me. I want to see yellow, choking fog—streams and streams of umbrellas—wet pavements—barrel organs—and the oil lights on costers' barrows in the Mile End Road. Father used to talk about it to other men sometimes, though never to me—I heard him tell some one that it might unsettle me. But you'll tell me, won't you?”
“Some day,” said Sprague. ”

“ Simultaneously with Robert's deep-toned growl, Meg's swinging foot came into contact with Sprague's shin, a light footfall sounded on the veranda, and a moment later the door was darkened by the star boarder.
A tall, refined-looking woman, with a supercilious mouth, a surprising complexion. and a mass of suspiciously auburn hair—such was Sprague's instantaneous mental photograph of the visitor, to be developed and studied at leisure. ”

“ A long experience with “unknowns” had taught her to administer encouragement in sufficient doses to stimulate, not intoxicate; and although at this particular juncture—when seventeen puerile plays reposed at the bottom of her trunk, and lack of suitable material had driven her to the distracted consideration of a revival as the opening feature at the Olympic—she could have thrown her arms about his neck and wept for joy, she merely traced a pensive pattern on the bare boards of the floor with her parasol. ”