titude.

In fact, as Mrs. Dennant, who was by no means void of common-sense,
foresaw, the arrangement worked all right. Ferrand entered on his duties
as French tutor to the little Robinsons. In the Dennants' household he
kept himself to his own room, which, day and night, he perfumed with
tobacco, emerging at noon into the garden, or, if wet, into the study, to
teach young Toddles French. After a time it became customary for him to
lunch with the house-party, partly through a mistake of Toddles, who
seemed to think that it was natural, and partly through John Noble, one
of Shelton's friends, who had come to stay, and discovered Ferrand to be
a most awfully interesting person he was always, indeed, discovering the
most awfully interesting persons. In his grave and toneless voice,
brushing his hair from off his brow, he descanted upon Ferrand with
enthusiasm, to which was joined a kind of shocked amusement, as who
should say, "Of course, I know it's very odd, but really he 's such an
awfully interesting person." For John Noble was a politician, belonging
to one of those two Peculiar parties, which, thoroughly in earnest, of an
honesty above suspicion, and always very busy, are constitutionally
averse to anything peculiar for fear of finding they have overstepped the
limit of what is practical in politics. As such he inspired confidence,
not caring for things unless he saw some immediate benefit to be had from
them, having a perfect sense of decency, and a small imagination. He
discussed all sorts of things with Ferrand; on one occasion Shelton
overheard them arguing on anarchism.

"No Englishman approves of murder," Noble was saying, in the gloomy voice
that contrasted with the optimistic cast of his fine head, "but the main
principle is right. Equalisation of property is bound to come. I
sympathise with then, not with their methods."

"Forgive me," struck in Ferrand; "do you know any anarchists?"

"No," returned Noble; "I certainly do not."

"You say you sympathise with them, but the first time it comes to
action--"

"Well?"

"Oh, monsieur! one doesn't make anarchism with the head."

Shelton perceived that he had meant to add, "but with the heart, the
lungs, the liver." He drew a deeper meaning from the saying, and seemed
to see, curling with the smoke from Ferrand's lips, the words: "What do
you, an English gentleman, of excellent position, and all the prejudices
of your class, know about us outcasts?