The world, and his own family, had always been inclined to love Louis Neville, and had advanced no farther than the inclination.

There were exceptions.
Archie Allaire, who hated him, discussing him floridly once with Querida at the Thumb-tack Club in the presence of a dozen others, characterised him as "one of those passively selfish snobs whose virtues are all negative and whose modesty is the mental complacency of an underdone capon." He was sharply rebuked by Ogilvy, Annan, and Burleson; skilfully by Querida--so adroitly indeed that his amiable and smiling apology for the absent painter produced a curiously depressing effect upon Ogilvy and Annan, and even left John Burleson dully uncomfortable, although Allaire had been apparently well drubbed.
"All the same," said Allaire with a sneer to Querida after the others had departed, "Neville is really a most frightful snob.

Like a busy bacillus surrounded by a glass tube full of prepared culture, he exists in his own intellectual exudations perfectly oblivious to the miseries and joys of the world around him.

He hasn't time for anybody except himself." Querida laughed: "What has Neville done to you, my friend ?" "To me ?" repeated Allaire with a shrug.

"Oh, nothing.