Now let me sit down and listen to you," added Peter, whose random talk had been inspired by the look of boyish embarrassment on Jack's face.

He had purposely struck many notes in order to see which one would echo in the lad's heart, so that his host might find himself, just as he had done when Jack with generous impulse had sprang from his chair to carry Minott the ring.
The two seated themselves--Peter in the easy chair and Jack opposite.
The boy's eyes roamed from the portrait, with its round, grave face, to Peter's head resting on the cushioned back, illumined by the light of the lamp, throwing into relief the clear-cut lips, little gray side-whiskers and the tightly drawn skin covering his scalp, smooth as polished ivory.
"Am I like him ?" asked Peter.

He had caught the boy's glances and had read his thoughts.
"No--and yes.

I can't see it in the portrait, but I do in the way you move your hands and in the way you bow.

I keep thinking of him when I am with you.