His manner of entry was enough to show that the strength of character which he seemed to possess had phlegm for its base and not ardour.

One might have said that perhaps the shocks he had passed through had taken all his original warmth out of him.

His beaver hat, which he had retained on his head till this moment, he now placed under the seat, where he sat absolutely motionless till the end of the first act, as if he were indulging in a monologue which did not quite reach his lips.
When Paula entered at the beginning of the second act he showed as much excitement as was expressed by a slight movement of the eyes.

When she spoke he turned to his next neighbour, and asked him in cold level words which had once been English, but which seemed to have lost the accent of nationality: 'Is that the young woman who is the possessor of this castle--Power by name ?' His neighbour happened to be the landlord at Sleeping-Green, and he informed the stranger that she was what he supposed.
'And who is that gentleman whose line of business seems to be to make love to Power ?' 'He's Captain De Stancy, Sir William De Stancy's son, who used to own this property.' 'Baronet or knight ?' 'Baronet--a very old-established family about here.' The stranger nodded, and the play went on, no further word being spoken till the fourth act was reached, when the stranger again said, without taking his narrow black eyes from the stage: 'There's something in that love-making between Stancy and Power that's not all sham!' 'Well,' said the landlord, 'I have heard different stories about that, and wouldn't be the man to zay what I couldn't swear to.

The story is that Captain De Stancy, who is as poor as a gallicrow, is in full cry a'ter her, and that his on'y chance lies in his being heir to a title and the wold name.