I can't think what there is about him for any one to dislike." Major Thomson glanced across the room.

In a way, he and the man whom he felt instinctively was in some sense of the word his rival, even though an undeclared one, were of exactly opposite types.

Granet was the centre of a little group of people who all seemed to be hanging upon his conversation.

He was full of high spirits and humour, debonair, with all the obvious claims to popularity.

Thomson, on the other hand, although good-looking, even distinguished in his way, was almost too slim and pale.