But the lump of metal took no hurt.

Queer to see the things stowed in their boxes again.

Aaron had always imagined these mysterious decorations as shining by nature on the breasts of heroes.
Pinned-on pieces of metal were a considerable come-down.
The orders were put away, the party sat round the fire in the comfortable library, the men sipping more _creme de menthe_, since nothing else offered, and the couple of hours in front promising the tedium of small-talk of tedious people who had really nothing to say and no particular originality in saying it.
Aaron, however, had reckoned without his host.

Sir William sat upright in his chair, with all the determination of a frail old man who insists on being level with the young.

The new guest sat in a lower chair, smoking, that curious glimmer on his face which made him so attractive, and which only meant that he was looking on the whole scene from the outside, as it were, from beyond a fence.