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The doctor and Fleda sat cosily looking at each other across the toast and chipped beef, their glances grazing the tea-urn which was just on one side of their range of vision. A comfortable Liverpool-coal fire in a state of repletion burned away indolently and gave everything else in the room somewhat of its own look of sousy independence.
A comfortable Liverpool-coal fire in a state of repletion burned away indolently, and gave everything else in the room somewhat of its own look of sonsy independence except, perhaps, the delicate creature at whom the doctor, between sips of his tea, took rather wistful observations. "When are you going to Mrs. Evelyn?" he said, breaking the silence. "They say next week, Sir."
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