Yet he lived apart from them, and was to the last a foreigner in speech, tastes, and habits.
One of the chief functions of our Sovereigns had long been to preside over the society of the capital.

That function Charles the Second had performed with immense success.

His easy bow, his good stories, his style of dancing and playing tennis, the sound of his cordial laugh, were familiar to all London.

One day he was seen among the elms of Saint James's Park chatting with Dryden about poetry.

[51] Another day his arm was on Tom Durfey's shoulder; and his Majesty was taking a second, while his companion sang "Phillida, Phillida," or "To horse, brave boys, to Newmarket, to horse." [52] James, with much less vivacity and good nature, was accessible, and, to people who did not cross him, civil.
But of this sociableness William was entirely destitute.