Neilson gave a gasp, for at that moment a woman came in. She was a native, a woman of somewhat commanding presence, stout without being corpulent, dark, for the natives grow darker with age, with very grey hair. She wore a black Mother Hubbard, and its thinness showed her heavy breasts. The moment had come.
She made an observation to Neilson about some household matter and he answered. He wondered if his voice sounded as unnatural to her as it did to himself. She gave the man who was sitting in the chair by the window an indifferent glance, and went out of the room. The moment had come and gone.
(W. Somerset Maugham, "Red" (1921), in Collected Short Stories, Volume 4, Vintage Books, 2000, p. 509.)
'Say, doc, you can that stuff with me. What the hell are you doin' in my room?' 'What do you mean?' he cried. 'What d'you mean?' She gathered herself together. No one could describe the scorn of her expression or the contemptuous hatred she put into her answer. 'You men! You filthy, dirty pigs! You're all the same, all of you. Pigs! Pigs!' Dr Macphail gasped. He understood.
(Somerset Maugham, "Rain" (1920), in Collected Short Stories, Vintage Classics, Volume 1, 2000, p. 48.)