"You don't drink port like any Dominey I ever knew." "I'm afraid that I never acquired the taste for port," Dominey observed.
The lawyer gazed at him with raised eyebrows.
"Not acquired the taste for port," he repeated blankly.
"I should have said reacquired," Dominey hastened to explain.

"You see, in the bush we drank a simply frightful amount of spirits, and that vitiates the taste for all wine." The lawyer glanced enviously at his host's fine bronzed complexion and clear eyes.
"You haven't the appearance of ever having drunk anything, Sir Everard," he observed frankly.

"One finds it hard to believe the stories that were going about ten or fifteen years ago." "The Dominey constitution, I suppose!" The new butler entered the room noiselessly and came to his master's chair.
"I have served coffee in the library, sir," he announced.

"Mr.
Middleton, the gamekeeper, has just called, and asks if he could have a word with you before he goes to bed to-night, sir.

He seems in a very nervous and uneasy state." "He can come to the library at once," Dominey directed; "that is, if you are ready for your coffee, Mangan." "Indeed I am," the lawyer assented, rising.