Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. The house was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins meandering about, stuffed until their seams and zippers were bursting. "I've not quite done yet," said Jonathan, as he joined the turnkeys. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head.
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