It was satisfactory (though somewhat provoking) that the stranger seemed quite unimpressed.
"You have some good furniture," he said.
"Yes," Jean agreed eagerly.

"It suits the room and makes it beautiful.
Can you imagine it furnished with a 'suite' and ordinary pictures, and draped curtains at the windows and silver photograph frames and a grand piano?
It would simply be no sort of room at all.

All its individuality would be gone.

But won't you sit down and rest?
That hill up from the town is steep." Peter Reid sank thankfully into a corner of the sofa, while Jean busied herself at the writing-table so that this visitor, who looked so tired, need not feel that he should offer conversation.
Presently he said, "You are very fond of The Rigs ?" Jean came and sat down beside him.
"It's the only home we have ever known," she said.

"We came here from India to live with our great-aunt--first me alone, and then David and Jock.