Only when it was too late did Piers remember that Mr.Jacks possibly had a private opinion about Jerome Otway's elder sons.

He wished, above all things, that he could have accepted the invitation.

But doubtless it would be repeated some other time.
As he looked about him at the gathering guests, he recalled his depression this afternoon in Bryanston Square, and it seemed to him so ridiculous that he could have laughed aloud.

As if he would not have other chances of calling upon Irene Derwent! Ah, but, to be sure, he must provide himself with visiting-cards.

A trifling point, but he had since reflected on it with some annoyance.
A hand was extended to him, a pink, delicate, but shapely hand, which his eyes fell upon as he stood in half-reverie.