I reflected that he was probably a victim for the first time.

There is very little romance in India, and he had, of course, married for convenience and respectability rather than for any real affection.

His first passion! This man who had been tossed about like a bit of driftwood, who had by his own determination and intelligence carved his way to wealth and power in the teeth of every difficulty.

Just now, in his embarrassment, he looked very boyish.

His troubles had left no wrinkles on his smooth forehead, his bright black hair was untinged by a single thread of gray, and as he looked up, after the pause that followed when he mentioned the name of the woman he loved, there was a very really youthful look of mingled passion and distress in his beautiful eyes.
"I think, Mr.Isaacs, that you have used a stronger argument against the opinions you profess to hold than I could have found in my whole armoury of logic." As he looked at me, the whole field of possibilities seemed opened.