However else he might fail, she surmised that in human relations he would be for ever dependable.

And what was life, after all, except a complex and intricate blend of human relations?
She decided suddenly and positively that she had always liked Gideon Vetch.
She liked the way his broad bulging forehead swept back into his sandy hair, which was quite gray on the temples; she liked the contrast between the quizzical humour in his eyes and the earnest expression of his generous mouth with its deep corners.

He stood in her mind for the straight and simple things of life, and she had lost her way so often among the bewildering ramification of human motives.

He had no trivial words, she knew.

He was incapable of "making conversation"; and she, who had been bred in a community of ceaseless chatter, was mentally refreshed by the sincerity of his interest.