Mr.
Flushing was now in the full tide of his discourse.

He produced a sheet of paper upon which he made drawings as he went on with his talk.

He saw Rachel lean over and look, pointing to this and that with her finger.
Hewet unkindly compared Mr.Flushing, who was extremely well dressed for a hot climate, and rather elaborate in his manner, to a very persuasive shop-keeper.

Meanwhile, as he sat looking at them, he was entangled in the Thornburys and Miss Allan, who, after hovering about for a minute or two, settled in chairs round him, holding their cups in their hands.
They wanted to know whether he could tell them anything about Mr.Bax.
Mr.Thornbury as usual sat saying nothing, looking vaguely ahead of him, occasionally raising his eye-glasses, as if to put them on, but always thinking better of it at the last moment, and letting them fall again.
After some discussion, the ladies put it beyond a doubt that Mr.Bax was not the son of Mr.William Bax.

There was a pause.