'Have you been into the country?' was one of his first inquiries.

'No. I spent the morning with my sisters, and in the afternoon I had
to see a lady in Chelsea.'

'Your sisters are older than yourself?'

'Yes, some years older.'

'Is it long since you went to live apart from them?'

'We have never had a home of our own since I was quite a child.'

And, after a moment's hesitation, she went on to give a brief
account of her history. Widdowson listened with the closest
attention, his lips twitching now and then, his eyes half closed.
But for cheek-bones that were too prominent and nostrils rather too
large, he was not ill-featured. No particular force of character
declared itself in his countenance, and his mode of speech did not
suggest a very active brain. Speculating again about his age, Monica
concluded that he must be two or three and forty, in spite of the
fact that his grizzled beard argued for a higher figure. He had
brown hair untouched by any sign of advanced life, his teeth were
white and regular, and something--she could not make clear to her
mind exactly what--convinced her that he had a right to judge
himself comparatively young.

'I supposed you were not a Londoner,' he said, when she came to a
pause.