(Larry's) bare and muddy feet to make him take them off the table-cloth.
Not that they made much difference to the condition of the table-cloth;
but still, there are conventions.

"It is a disgrace," Hilary remarked mechanically, "that my children can't
behave like civilised beings at a meal ... Peter, what are you going to
do this afternoon?"

The boarders rose. Mrs. Johnson patted Peter approvingly on the arm, and
said, "I'm glad to of had the pleasure. One day we'll go out together,
you and me. Seem as if we look at things from the same point of view, as
it were. You mayn't be so clever as some, but you suit me. Now, my dear,
I'm goin' to help you about the house a bit. The saloon wants dustin', I
noticed."

Peggy sighed and said she was sure it did, and Teresina was hopeless, and
Mrs. Johnson was really too kind, but it was a shame to bother her, and
the saloon could go another while yet. She was struggling with the
children's bibs and rather preoccupied.

The boarders went out to pursue their several avocations; Rhoda and Mr.
Vyvian to the church of San Giorgio degli Schiavoni, that Mr. Vyvian
might the better explain what he meant; Miss Barnett, round-about and
cheerful, sketch-book in hand, to hunt for "Venice, Her Spirit," in the
Pescaria; Miss Gould to lie down on her bed and recover from lunch; the
curate to take the air and photographs for his magic lantern lectures
to be delivered in the parish-room at home; and Mrs. Johnson to find a
feather broom.

Hilary sat down and lit a cigar, and Illuminato crawled about his legs.