Even the touching its brim with his fingers had degenerated into a motion that began with a flourish toward it, and ended with a suave extension of his palm toward the object of his obeisance.

On this occasion he quite forgot that he had left his hat in the hall, and so, assuming that it still crowned his head, he went through with eight or ten hand flourishes that changed the dignified and self-contained assembly into a merry company of men and women, who would not have been willing to tell Mr.Belcher what they were laughing at.
The last person to whom he was introduced was Mrs.Dillingham, the lady who stood nearest to him--so near that the hand flourish seemed absurd even to him, and half died in the impulse to make it.

Mrs.Dillingham, in her black and her magnificent diamonds, went down almost upon the floor in the demonstration of her admiring and reverential courtesy, and pronounced the name of Mr.Belcher with a musical distinctness of enunciation that arrested and charmed the ears of all who heard it.

It seemed as if every letter were swimming in a vehicle compounded of respect, veneration, and affection.

The consonants flowed shining and smooth like gold-fish through a globe of crystal illuminated by the sun.
The tone in which she spoke the name seemed to rob it of all vulgar associations, and to inaugurate it as the key-note of a fine social symphony.
Mr.Belcher was charmed, and placed by it at his ease.