"Good afternoon!" Lady Hunterleys joined in her companion's amusement as they continued their promenade.
"Is the young man in love, do you suppose ?" she enquired lightly.
"If so," her companion replied, "he has made a somewhat unfortunate choice.

However, it really doesn't matter.

Love at his age is nothing more than a mood.

It will pass as all moods pass." She turned and looked at him.
"Do you mean," she asked incredulously, "that youth is incapable of love ?" They had paused for a moment, looking out across the bay towards the glittering white front of Bordighera.

Mr.Draconmeyer took off his hat.
Somehow, without it, in that clear light, one realised, notwithstanding his spectacles, his grizzled black beard of unfashionable shape, his over-massive forehead and shaggy eyebrows, that his, too, was the face of one whose feet were not always upon the earth.
"Perhaps," he answered, "it is a matter of degree, yet I am almost tempted to answer your question absolutely.