His dark hair was brushed straight back from his forehead and was always very slick.

Harry was what Roy called "a fussy dresser" and affected knickerbockers and golf-stockings, negligee shirts of soft and delicate hues of lavender or green or blue and, to quote his disrespectful room-mate once more, "symphonic ties." Harry was the embodiment of aristocratic ease and always lent a "tone" to any gathering.

He maintained an air of what he probably considered well-bred composure and tabooed enthusiasm.

Harry never declared that a thing was "bully" or "fine and dandy"; he mildly observed that it was "not half bad." This pose amused him, doubtless, and entertained his friends, and underneath it all he was a very normal, likable chap.

It was Roy Draper who broke the strained silence that had endured until the whistle put an end to the third period.
"I wouldn't give a cent for Canterbury's chances in the next period," he said.