He had lost his air of slight pomposity, the air with which he entered his offices in the morning, strutted about the warehouse, went out to lunch with a customer, and which he somehow seemed to lose as the time came for returning to his home.

Once or twice he glanced towards his wife, half nervously, half admiringly.

Once she nodded back to him, but it was the nod of one who gathers up her skirts as she throws alms to a beggar.

Then Arnold realized that his little fit of thoughtfulness had made a material difference to the hum of conversation.

He remembered his duty and leaned over toward Lady Blennington.
"You promised to tell me more about some of these people," he reminded her.