He remembered that as a child he would not look at the mask of Memnon in the British Museum, because it was a face, and so large.
By an effort, braver than that of leaping over a cliff, he went to an empty seat at the breakfast-table and sat down.

The men greeted him with good-humoured raillery as if they had always known him.

He sobered himself a little by looking at their conventional coats and solid, shining coffee-pot; then he looked again at Sunday.

His face was very large, but it was still possible to humanity.
In the presence of the President the whole company looked sufficiently commonplace; nothing about them caught the eye at first, except that by the President's caprice they had been dressed up with a festive respectability, which gave the meal the look of a wedding breakfast.

One man indeed stood out at even a superficial glance.