He was a handsome man in his rather colourless fashion, a man who would look any part with distinction from policeman to President.

His sleek iron-gray hair had as usual the rich sheen of velvet; his thin, sharp profile was like the face on a Roman coin.

A man of power, of intellect, of character; and yet a man who had missed, in some inexplicable way, greatness, achievement.

On the whole Stephen was glad that Corinna had announced her engagement.

She and Benham seemed so perfectly suited to each other--and, of course, there was nothing in that old story about Alice Rokeby.