"Another minute, and I had gone without you." But Rotherby scarce looked at him, and answered with unwonted shortness.
His eyes had discovered Mr.Caryll.It was the first time he had run against him since that day, over a week ago, at Stretton House, and at sight of him now all Rotherby's spleen was moved.

He stood and stared, his dark eyes narrowing, his cheeks flushing slightly under their tan.
Wharton, who had approached him, observing his sudden halt, his sudden look of concentration, asked him shortly what might ail him.
"I have seen someone I did not expect to find in a resort of gentlemen," said Rotherby, his eyes ever on Mr.Caryll, who--engrossed in his game--was all unconscious of his lordship's advent.
Wharton followed the direction of his companion's gaze, and giving now attention himself to Mr.Caryll, he fell to appraising his genteel appearance, negligent of the insinuation in what Rotherby had said.
"'Sdeath!" swore the duke.

"'Tis a man of taste--a travelled gentleman by his air.

Behold me the grace of that shoulder-knot, Charles, and the set of that most admirable coat.

Fifty guineas wouldn't buy his Steinkirk.