" She glanced aside, saw Mr.Blunt returning from the hall and added rapidly in a lowered voice, "His mother." The bright, mechanical smile of Mr.Blunt gleamed at us right down the room, but he didn't, as it were, follow it in his body.

He swerved to the nearest of the two big fireplaces and finding some cigarettes on the mantelpiece remained leaning on his elbow in the warmth of the bright wood fire.

I noticed then a bit of mute play.

The heiress of Henry Allegre, who could secure neither obscurity nor any other alleviation to that invidious position, looked as if she would speak to Blunt from a distance; but in a moment the confident eagerness of her face died out as if killed by a sudden thought.

I didn't know then her shrinking from all falsehood and evasion; her dread of insincerity and disloyalty of every kind.