He had the grand manner too, and that quiet air of self-absorption which usually envelops the bearers of historic names.
Dormer Colville watched him with a good-natured patience which pointed, as clearly as his attitude and yawning indifference, to the fact that he was not at Farlingford for his own amusement.
Presently he lounged back again toward the Marquis and stood behind him.
"The wind is cold, Marquis," he said, pleasantly.

"One of the coldest spots in England.

What would Mademoiselle say if I allowed you to take a chill ?" De Gemosac turned and looked at him over his shoulder with a smile full of pathetic meaning.

He spread out his arms in a gesture indicative of horror at the bleakness of the surroundings; at the mournfulness of the decaying village; the dreary hopelessness of the mouldering church and tombs.
"I was thinking, my friend," he said.

"That was all.