And that continued for a fortnight, Miss Eustace! A weary, trying life, don't you think?
I wish I could tell you of it as vividly as he told me that night upon the balcony of the palace at Suakin." Ethne wished it too with all her heart.

Harry Feversham had made his story very real that night to Captain Willoughby; so that even after the lapse of fifteen months this unimaginative creature was sensible of a contrast and a deficiency in his manner of narration.
"In front of us was the quiet harbour and the Red Sea, above us the African stars.

Feversham spoke in the quietest manner possible, but with a peculiar deliberation and with his eyes fixed upon my face, as though he was forcing me to feel with him and to understand.

Even when he lighted his cigar he did not avert his eyes.

For by this time I had given him a cigar and offered him a chair.