There had been the shortest of greetings, and, while Lincoln turned over the last telegrams, Stanton wrote steadily.
Stanton had changed much since the night in the Springfield store.

A square beard, streaked with grey, covered his chin, and his face had grown heavier.

There were big pouches below the short-sighted eyes, and deep lines on each side of his short shaven upper lip.

His skin had an unheathly pallor, like that of one who works late and has little fresh air.

The mouth, always obstinate, was now moulded into a settled grimness.