He had fine blue eyes.
"Have I the pleasure of speaking to John Winthrop of New York ?" he began, taking off his hat.
I rose.

"I am the man." He presented his card, and on it I read, "Philip Pembroke." "Philip Pembroke!" I exclaimed.
"Evidently you are surprised ?" showing a set of strong white teeth.
"Truthfully, I am," I said, taking his hand.

"You see," I added, apologetically, "your family lawyer--that is--he gave me the--er--impression that you were a sickly fellow--one foot in the grave, or something like.

I was not expecting a man of your build." The smile broadened into a deep laugh, and a merry one, I thought, enviously.

It was so long since I had laughed.
"That was a hobby of the old fellow," he replied.