There are gentle backwoodsmen, and ruffians among those who live in drawing-rooms.
"Well ?" said Meredith, following the glance of his friend's eye as he surveyed his men.
Oscard took his pipe from his lips and looked gravely at him.
"Don't half like it, you know," he said in a low voice; for Durnovo was talking with a head porter a few yards away.
"Don't half like what ?--the flavour of that pipe?
It looks a little strong." "No, leaving you here," replied Oscard.
"Oh, that's all right, old chap! You can't take me with you, you know.
I intended to stick to it when I came away from home, and I am not going to turn back now." Oscard gave a queer little upward jerk of the head, as if he had just collected further evidence in support of a theory which chronically surprised him.

Then he turned away and looked down over the vast untrodden tract of Africa that lay beneath them.

He kept his eyes fixed there, after the manner of a man who has no fluency in personal comment.
"You know," he said jerkily, "I didn't think--I mean you're not the sort of chap I took you for.

When I first saw you I thought you were a bit of a dandy and--all that.

Not the sort of man for this work.