He had, in a small way, done the same himself.

But he had never met one of the men who do not go home--who possess no dress-coat and no use for it--whose business it is to go about with a rifle in one hand and their life in the other--who risk their lives because it is their trade and not their pleasure.
Durnovo could not understand the new-comer at all.

He saw at once that this was one of those British aristocrats who do strange things in a very strange way.

In a degree Meredith reminded him of Maurice Gordon, the man whose letter of introduction was at that moment serving to light the camp fire.

But it was Maurice Gordon without that semi-sensual weakness of purpose which made him the boon companion of Tom, Dick, or Harry, provided that one of those was only with him long enough.