Peter had been made to trim his beard, and, dressed in unassuming pepper-and-salt, looked with his docile eyes and quiet voice a very respectable servant.

Old Blenkiron had done the job in style, for, if you'll believe it, he had brought the clothes all the way from London.

I realized now why he and Sandy had been fossicking in my wardrobe.

Peter's suit had been of Sandy's procuring, and it was not the fit of mine.

I had no difficulty about the accent.