He was a stranger, from New York, older than themselves and in college.
"I wish he wasn't going to butt in with his city manners," Reddy Brooks was thinking regretfully.

"He is sure to have a swelled head and try to boss the crowd." They had pictured him as a sort of dandy, with needle-toed patent leather shoes and a coat cut in at the waist and padded over the shoulders.
Even David had voiced a few thoughts on the subject of Tom Gray.
"I'll bet he's an English dude," he said.

For Mrs.Gray's nephew had spent most of his life in England.

"He'll probably carry a cane and wear a monocle." They were not surprised, therefore, when a young man entered the room who bore out somewhat the picture they had conjured.

He was tall and slender, very dapper and rather ladylike in his bearing.