'I'm going to change and have a bath.

There's an American coming to dine, and he's part of the business.' Mr Blenkiron arrived punctual to the minute in a fur coat like a Russian prince's.

Now that I saw him on his feet I could judge him better.

He had a fat face, but was not too plump in figure, and very muscular wrists showed below his shirt-cuffs.

I fancied that, if the occasion called, he might be a good man with his hands.
Sandy and I ate a hearty meal, but the American picked at his boiled fish and sipped his milk a drop at a time.