Mrs.Pendleton's thoughts wandered to afternoon tea.

Her husband nodded with closed eyes, and recovered himself with convulsive starts.
Austin Turold fixed his glance on the ceiling, where a solitary fly was cleaning its wings with its legs.

From the window Charles Turold presented an immobile profile.

Only Dr.Ravenshaw seemed to listen with an interest which never flagged.
Yet it was a story well worth hearing, that record of indomitable pertinacity which had refused to be baulked by years or rebuffs.

Men have acquired titles more easily.