And David's eyes sought questingly for a door through which a woman might come and go mysteriously and unseen.

There was none, and the one window of the room was so high up that a person standing on the ground outside could not look in.
And now it began to dawn upon David that all these things he was looking at were old--very old.

In the Chateau the Missioner no longer ate on tin plates.

The shoes and slippers must have been made a generation ago.

The rag carpet under his feet had lost its vivid lines of colouring.