If he had only been intellectually a little flexible in his morality! But no; he wore it cap a pie, like a mediaeval knight his armour.

One had to approve.

And there was no getting away from him.

He was good enough to stay in town for the practise of the opening overture of the amateurs, and the flute-duet, when his family were looking for him at Tunbridge Wells; and almost every day Victor was waylaid by him at a corner of the Strand.
Occasionally, Victor appeared at the point of interception armed with Colney Durance, for whom he had called in the Temple, bent on self-defence, although Colney was often as bitter to his taste as to Dudley's.

Latterly the bitter had become a tonic.