He had been born an aristocrat, he had been a democrat for a time, he was now an aristocrat again.

He marveled to find that this final change was not merely intellectual, it had invaded his feeling; and he also marveled to note that this feeling seemed a good deal less artificial than any he had entertained in his system for a long time.

He could also have noted, if he had thought of it, that his bearing had stiffened, over night, and that his chin had lifted itself a shade.

Arrived in the basement, he was about to enter the breakfast room when he saw old Marsh in the dim light of a corner of the hall, beckoning him with his finger to approach.
The blood welled slowly up in Tracy's cheek, and he said with a grade of injured dignity almost ducal: "Is that for me ?" "Yes." "What is the purpose of it ?" "I want to speak to you--in private." "This spot is private enough for me." Marsh was surprised; and not particularly pleased.

He approached and said: "Oh, in public, then, if you prefer.