He was a young man of cultivation and accomplishment.
On this fifth anniversary he sat gazing unseeingly at the autumn rack, the Princess's letter in his hand, and letting his thoughts wander down the years.

He marvelled how valiantly the stars in their courses had fought for him.

Even against recognition his life was charmed.

Once, indeed, he met at the house in Portland Place a painter to whom he had posed.

The painter looked at him keenly.
"Surely we have met before ?" "We have," said Paul with daring frankness.