Most of them were framed colored prints from Christmas editions of the London "Graphic" and "Illustrated News," the subject of each picture inevitably involving very alert fox terriers and very pretty moon-faced little girls.
Back of the bedroom was the kitchen, a creation of Trina's, a dream of a kitchen, with its range, its porcelain-lined sink, its copper boiler, and its overpowering array of flashing tinware.

Everything was new; everything was complete.
Maria Macapa and a waiter from one of the restaurants in the street were to prepare the wedding supper here.

Maria had already put in an appearance.

The fire was crackling in the new stove, that smoked badly; a smell of cooking was in the air.

She drove McTeague and Old Grannis from the room with great gestures of her bare arms.
This kitchen was the only one of the three rooms they had been obliged to furnish throughout.