He refused Mr.Van Torp's not very pressing invitation to stay to luncheon, given at the very moment when he was getting into his motor, and a few seconds later he was tearing down the avenue.
Mr.Van Torp stood on the steps till he was out of sight and then came down himself and strolled slowly away towards the trees again, his hands behind him and his eyes constantly bent upon the road, three paces ahead.
He was not always quite truthful.

Scruples were not continually uppermost in his mind.

For instance, what he had told Lady Maud about his engagement to poor Miss Bamberger did not quite agree with what he had said to Margaret on the steamer.
In certain markets in New York, three kinds of eggs are offered for sale, namely, Eggs, Fresh Eggs, and Strictly Fresh Eggs.

I have seen the advertisement.

Similarly in Mr.Van Torp's opinion there were three sorts of stories, to wit, Stories, True Stories, and Strictly True Stories.