He had a long, rather strong chin and an obstinate mouth with peevish lines about its corners.

But the remarkable feature was his eyes.

I can best describe them by saying that they looked hot--not fierce or angry, but so restless that they seemed to ache physically and to want sponging with cold water.
They finished their talk about the picture--which was couched in a jargon of which I did not understand one word--and Miss Doria turned to me and the young man.
'My cousin Launcelot Wake--Mr Brand.' We nodded stiffly and Mr Wake's hand went up to smooth his hair in a self-conscious gesture.
'Has Barnard announced dinner?
By the way, where is Mary ?' 'She came in five minutes ago and I sent her to change,' said Miss Claire.

'I won't have her spoiling the evening with that horrid uniform.

She may masquerade as she likes out-of-doors, but this house is for civilized people.' The butler appeared and mumbled something.