This man with his dark handsome face sealed with the stamp of intellect, his powerful-looking form (ill dressed, according to their standard) and his great and growing reputation, was a person with whom they had no sympathy, and who, they felt, had no sympathy with them.

We talk as though there is one heaven and one hell for all of us, but here must be some mistake.

An impassable gulf yawns between the different classes of mankind.

What has such a man as Geoffrey to do with the feeble male and female butterflies of a London drawing-room?
There is only one link between them: they live on the same planet.
When the fine young men and the two stray ladies had melted away, Geoffrey took Mr.Granger up to his room.

Coming downstairs again he found Lady Honoria waiting for him in the study.
"Is that individual really going to dine and sleep here ?" she asked.
"Certainly, Honoria, and he has brought no dress clothes," he answered.
"Really, Geoffrey, it is too bad of you," said the lady with some pardonable irritation.