He might have been of any age between thirty-five and forty.
His limbs and body were powerful; his head was set with the poise of an emperor.

His clothes were correct and well worn, he was entirely at his ease.

Yet Elisabeth, who was an observant person, looked at him and wondered.

He would have been more at home, she thought, out in the storms of life than in her uncle's drawing-rooms.

Yet what was he?
He lacked the trimness of the soldier; of the debonair smartness of the modern fighting man there was no trace whatsoever in his speech or appearance.