He rode superbly: he knew Law: he was prepared for any position: he could speak really eloquently; she had heard him at a local meeting.

And he loved the old Crossways almost as much as she did.

'He has promised me he will never ask me to sell it,' she said, with a simpleness that could hardly have been acted.
When she was gone, Lady Dunstane thought she had worn a mask, in the natural manner of women trying to make the best of their choice; and she excused her poor Tony for the artful presentation of him at her own cost.

But she could not excuse her for having married the man.

Her first and her final impression likened him to a house locked up and empty: a London house conventionally furnished and decorated by the upholsterer, and empty of inhabitants.