Scudamore had short jaws, well set up, and powerful, without rapacity.

But even these, after twelve hours of fasting, demanded something better than gunpowder.

He could not help thinking that his host was regarding the condition of affairs very calmly, until he remembered that the day was Sunday, when no Briton has any call to be disturbed by any but sacred insistency.

At any rate, he was under orders now, and those orders were entirely to his liking.

So he freshened up his cheerful and simple-minded face, put his sailor-knot neckcloth askew, as usual, and with some trepidation went down to dinner.
The young ladies would not have been young women if they had not received him warmly.