Speech and manner, though they had nothing of the conventional adornment that is gathered in London drawing-rooms, were those of gentle breeding and bright intelligence; her education seemed better than is looked for among ladies in general.
Glazzard perceived that she had read diligently, and with scope beyond that of the circulating library; the book with which she had been engaged when they entered was a Danish novel.
"Do you also look for salvation to the Scandinavians ?" he asked.
"I read the languages--the modern.

They have a very interesting literature of to-day; the old battle-stories don't appeal to me quite so much as they do to Denzil." "You ought to know this fellow Jacobsen," said Quarrier, taking up the novel.

"'Marie Grubbe' doesn't sound a very aesthetic title, but the book is quite in your line--a wonderfully delicate bit of work." "Don't imagine, Mrs.Quarrier," pleaded Glazzard, "that I am what is called an aesthete.

The thing is an abomination to me." "Oh, you go tolerably far in that direction!" cried Denzil, laughing.
"True, you don't let your hair grow, and in general make an ass of yourself; but there's a good deal of preciosity about you, you know." Seeing that Mr.Glazzard's crown showed an incipient baldness, the allusion to his hair was perhaps unfortunate.

Lilian fancied that her guest betrayed a slight annoyance; she at once interposed with a remark that led away from such dangerous ground.