It's in the blood.

What's George's weight ?--ah, ha!" "It's no laughing matter, Brandwhite.

There's time for a hundred up before dinner if you care for a game, Winlow ?" The sound of chairs drawn back, of footsteps, and the closing of a door.
George was alone again, a spot of red in either of his cheeks.

Those vague stirrings of chivalry and aspiration were gone, and gone that sense of well-earned ease.

He got up, came out of his corner, and walked to and fro on the tiger-skin before the fire.