spite of it. Indeed
he felt the feasibility of this course the more strongly after he had
actually seen Olivia and she had given him the outlines of her tale.

Watching his countenance closely, she saw that he blanched. Otherwise he
betrayed no sign of flinching. His manner of sitting rigid and upright
in his corner of the rustic seat was a perfectly natural way of
listening to a story that affected him so closely. What distressed her
chiefly was the incongruity between his personality and the sordid drama
in which she was inviting him to take part. He was even more
distinguished-looking than he appeared in the photographs she cherished
or in the vision she had retained in her memory. Without being above the
medium male height, he was admirably shaped by war, sport, and exercise.
His neat head, with its thick, crispy hair, in which there was already a
streak of gray, was set on his shoulders at just the right poise for
command. The high-bridged nose, inherited from the Umfravilles, was of
the kind commonly considered to show "race." The eyes had the sharpness,
and the thin-lipped mouth the inflexibility, that go with a capacity for
quick decisions. While he was not so imposing in mufti as in his
uniform, the trim traveling-suit of russet brown went well with the
bronze tint of the complexion. It was so healthy a bronze, as a usual
thing, that his present pallor was the more ashen from contrast.

Knowing from his telegram the hour at which to expect him, she had gone
down the driveway to meet him when she saw him dismiss his taxicab at
the gate. She chose to do this in order that their first encounter might
take place out-of-doors. With the windows of the neighboring houses open
and people sitting on verandas or passing up and down the road, they
could exchange no more than some conventional greeting. She would assume
nothing on the ground of their past standing toward each other. He
seemed to acquiesce in this, since he showed no impatience at being
restricted to the formality of shaking hands.

Happily for both, commonplace words were given them--questions and
answers as to his voyage, his landing, his hotel. He came to her relief,
too, as they sauntered toward the house, by commenting on its dignity
and Georgian air, as well as by turning once or twice to look at the
view. Nearing the steps she swerved from the graveled driveway and began
to cross the lawn.

"We won't go in just yet," she explained. "Papa is there