He was dressed with the utmost care, and he set his feet upon the broad walk as though the action were in some way a condescension. Sir John felt and looked several years younger. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. I cannot be intimate—’ stressing the word with a deep look ‘— with one I feel to be a stranger. “You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. ‘I am saying so,’ protested Gerald mildly.
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