That was according to HIS rule of social equality by the camp fire, he said....
And where was all Lady Bridget's vaunted socialism if she jibbed at such a simple illustration of the first principles of socialism?
Of course, Bridget had taken his banter in good part, and with a pretty grimace had told him she would get out a consignment of the stuff her Aunt Eliza gave at Christmas to the old men in their Irish village and present him with it.
He threw away the butt end of Sir Luke's cigar when he joined her.

For several moments he stood watching her--the picturesque little figure in its dainty frock, the grace of the small head with its crop of untidy hair, the pale pointed face--chin resting in the cup of one flower-like hand, red lips--the upper one like Cupid's bow--slightly parted, strange deep eyes gazing across the dark expanse of river to the scattered lights on the high land opposite.

Above, the Southern Cross, set diagonally, in the dark clear sky gemmed with its myriad stars.
There could be no doubt that Colin McKeith was in the grip of an infatuation such as he had never known before in his life.

It staggered him.

His breath caught in his throat and ended in an uncertain laugh.
He stuttered in sheer awkwardness.
'I--I say ...