Cousin Jane, it seemed, knew all about it; the people in the streets knew all about it; the newspapers all and more.

To meet Cousin Jane was terrible, of course, but when it was over not so terrible after all.

The good woman had limits even to her power over facts; it was clear that she had communed with herself and accepted the Food as something in the nature of things.
She took the line of huffy dutifulness.

She disapproved highly, it was evident, but she did not prohibit.

The flight of Bensington, as she must have considered it, may have shaken her, and her worst was to treat him with bitter persistence for a cold he had not caught and fatigue he had long since forgotten, and to buy him a new sort of hygienic all-wool combination underwear that was apt to get involved and turned partially inside out and partially not, and as difficult to get into for an absent-minded man, as--Society.