They should have waited; they might have married a social equal at something between fifty and sixty.
Another old friend was Mr Quarmby.

Unwedded he, and perpetually exultant over men who, as he phrased it, had noosed themselves.

He made a fair living, but, like Dr Johnson, had no passion for clean linen.
Yule was not disdainful of these old companions, and the fact that all had a habit of looking up to him increased his pleasure in their occasional society.

If, as happened once or twice in half a year, several of them were gathered together at his house, he tasted a sham kind of social and intellectual authority which he could not help relishing.

On such occasions he threw off his habitual gloom and talked vigorously, making natural display of his learning and critical ability.
The topic, sooner or later, was that which is inevitable in such a circle--the demerits, the pretentiousness, the personal weaknesses of prominent contemporaries in the world of letters.