“Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. And Pottiswick, of course. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. A sudden knock at the door startled her. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. She was guided into the dock and prompted by a helpful police inspector. Evidently in the flower of his age, he was scarcely less remarkable for symmetry of person than for comeliness of feature; and, though his attire was plain and unpretending, it was such as could be worn only by one belonging to the higher ranks of society.
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