Miller, slouching in his chair, with a cheap tie-clip showing underneath his waistcoat, a bulging mass of sock descending over the top of his boot, rolling a cigarette with yellow-stained, objectionable fingers, still involved him in introspective speculation as to real values in life.
"I have often felt myself unfortunate in not having met you before, Miss Miall," he said.

"Some of your writings have interested me immensely." "Some of them ?" she queried, with a smile.
"Absolute agreement would deny us even the stimulus of an argument," he observed.

"Besides, after all, men find it more difficult to get rid of prejudices than women." She leaned forward to help herself to a cigarette and he studied her for a moment.

She was a little under medium height, trimly yet almost squarely built.

Her mouth was delightful, humourous and attractive, and her eyes were of the deepest shade of violet, with black, silken eyelashes.