But I mustn't stay here talking of these things, and keeping you from your pottery.

Perhaps I have stayed too long already.

If I have I ask your pardon, and I will now wish you a very good afternoon." With a sudden return to his customary wooden impassivity, he shook hands with us, bowed stiffly, and took himself off towards the curator's office.
"What a strange man that is," said Miss Bellingham, as Mr.Jellicoe disappeared through the doorway at the end of the room, "or perhaps I should say, a strange being, for I can hardly think of him as a man.

I have never met any other human creature at all like him." "He is certainly a queer old fogey," I agreed.
"Yes, but there is something more than that.

He is so emotionless, so remote and aloof from all mundane concerns.