Sweetsir one might say, in a state of eclipse; but still the serviceable Sweetsir, who was never consulted in vain by the fortunate people privileged to call him friend! "Is he really ill, do you think ?" Mr.Troy asked.
"My nephew has turned fifty," Lady Lydiard answered, "and he persists in living as if he was a young man.

Every now and then Nature says to him, 'Felix, you are old!' And Felix goes to bed, and says it's his nerves." "I suppose he is to be trusted to keep his word about writing to Paris ?" pursued the lawyer.
"Oh, yes! He may delay doing it but he will do it.

In spite of his lackadaisical manner, he has moments of energy that would surprise you.
Talking of surprises, I have something to tell you about Moody.

Within the last day or two there has been a marked change in him--a change for the worse." "You astonish me, Lady Lydiard! In what way has Moody deteriorated ?" "You shall hear.

Yesterday was Friday.