I think that I will stay at quiet this morning and get them written." All forenoon I was wandering over the links, and you may imagine that my mind was turning all the time upon this strange man whom chance had drifted to our doors.

Where did he gain that style of his, that manner of command, that haughty menacing glint of the eye?
And his experiences to which he referred so lightly, how wonderful the life must have been which had put him in the way of them! He had been kind to us, and gracious of speech, but still I could not quite shake myself clear of the distrust with which I had regarded him.

Perhaps, after all, Jim Horscroft had been right and I had been wrong about taking him to West Inch.
When I got back he looked as though he had been born and bred in the steading.

He sat in the big wooden-armed ingle-chair, with the black cat on his knee.

His arms were out, and he held a skein of worsted from hand to hand which my mother was busily rolling into a ball.