Then he leaned forward for several moments.

He had scarcely the appearance of a man returned from a week or two of open-air life and indulgence in the sport he loved best.
The healthy tan of his complexion was lessened rather than increased.
There were black lines under his eyes which seemed to speak of sleepless nights, and a beard of several days' growth was upon his chin.

He drank the cocktail which Mills presently brought him, at a gulp, and watched with satisfaction while the mixer was vigorously shaken and a second one poured out.
"We've had a rough time, Mills," he observed, as he set down the glass.
"Until this morning it scarcely left off blowing." "I'm sorry to hear it, sir," was the respectful reply.

"If I may be allowed to say so, sir, you're looking tired." "I am tired," Sir Henry admitted.

"I think, if I tried, I could go to sleep now for twenty-four hours." "You will pardon my reminding you, so far as regards your letters, that there is no post out tonight, sir," Mills proceeded.