It was as if Stephen saw his opponent from an entirely fresh point of view, as if he beheld him for the first time with the sharp clearness which the flash of his anger produced.

The very absence of all sense of dignity impressed him suddenly as the most tremendous dignity a human being could attain--the unconscious dignity of natural forces--of storms and fire and war and pestilence.

Because the man never thought of how he appeared, he appeared always impregnable.
"I shall not argue," said the young man, with a smile which he endeavoured to make easy and natural.

"The time for argument is over.
You played trumps." Vetch laughed.

"And it wasn't my last card," he answered bluntly.
"The game isn't finished." Though Stephen's voice was light it held a quiver of irritation.