He had a large physical splendour that was well set off and illustrated by the brilliance of his linen and his broadcloth.

She was as modest as a mouse beside him.

The superior young woman, the stern and yet indulgent philosopher, had utterly vanished, and only a poor little mouse remained.
"Will you please come into the drawing-room ?" she murmured when, after an immense effort to keep full control of her faculties, she had decided where he must be put.
"Thanks," he said.
As she diminished herself, with beautiful shy curves of her body, against the wall so that he could manoeuvre his bigness through the drawing-room doorway, he gave her a glance half benign and half politely malicious, which seemed to say again: "I know you're afraid, and I rather like it.

But you know you needn't be." "Please take a seat," she implored.

And then quickly, as he seemed to have no intention of speaking to her confidentially, "I'll tell mother." Leaving the room, she saw him sink smoothly into a seat, his rich-piled hat in one gloved hand and an ebony walking-stick in the other.