His manner of moving through the well-dressed crowd somewhat belied the tan of his skin.

Here was an out-of-door, athletic youth, who knew how to move in drawing-rooms--a big man who did not look much too large for his surroundings.

It was evident that he did not know many people, and also that he was indifferent to his loss.

He had come to see Mrs.Sydney Bamborough, and that lady was not insensible to the fact.
To prove this she diverged from the path of veracity, as is the way of some women.
"I did not expect to see you here," she said.
"You told me you were coming," he answered simply.

The inference would have been enough for some women, but not for Etta Sydney Bamborough.
"Well, is that a reason why you should attend a diplomatic soiree, and force yourself to bow and smirk to a number of white-handed little dandies whom you despise ?" "The best reason," he answered quietly, with an honesty which somehow touched her as nothing else had touched this beautiful woman since she had become aware of her beauty.
"Then you think it worth the bowing and the smirking ?" she asked, looking past him with innocent eyes.