He was good to look at, so strong and straight, even as he sat at ease with the book in his hand, and the quivering sunlight through the leaves played over his yellow beard and white forehead.

She knew well enough now that he admired her greatly, and she hoped it would not be very hard for him when she went away.
Somehow, he was still to her the professor, the student, quiet and dignified and careless of the world, as she had first known him.

She could not realise Claudius as a man of wealth and power, who was as well able to indulge his fancies as the Duke himself,--perhaps more so, for the Duke's financial affairs were the gossip of Europe, and always had been since he came of age.
Meanwhile the Doctor reached the end of the chapter, and there was a pause.

Neither spoke, and the silence was becoming awkward, when a servant came across the lawn announcing the Duke.
"Ask his Grace to come outside," said Margaret, and the representative of the aristocracy was striding over the green, hat in hand, a moment afterwards.

Margaret put out her hand and Claudius rose.