Miss toner was quietly laughing, and indeed everybody laughed.
For Mrs. toner the light-giver he knew that he had conceived a rooted aversion.
Mrs. toner wore a ruffled dress and of her face little remained distinct but the dark gaze—forceful and ambiguously gentle.
Mr. toner had left the string of fish by the door, where it was quite safe.
I want to hear about some people called toner, he said, dropping into the easy-chair on the opposite side of the tea-table.
"No you won't, toner; turn your head to one side," he called.
Mr. toner turned angrily, and asked what Mr. Pawkins was "a givin' him."
The interview over, he returned to his book, and the lawyer went to look for his civil acquaintance, Mr. toner.
His laugh was visible rather than audible and that Miss toner had never before been the subject of such mirth was evident to him.
Coristine, who was first visited, reported a sound of voices at the back of the house, and toner confirmed the report.