And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. “I have made no arrangements as yet— none at all. ’ ‘Of Leonardo? Yes, I will tell you. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him.
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