Letitia rose, presently, to leave the room. Whilst she waited for her aunt to conclude a little anecdote, she glanced with some interest at the man by her side. More than ever the sense of his incongruity with that atmosphere seemed borne in upon her, yet she was forced to concede to him, notwithstanding the delicacy of his appearance, a certain unexpected strength, a forcefulness of tone and manner, which gave him a certain distinction. He had risen, waiting for her passing, and one lean brown hand gripped the back of the chair in which she had been sitting. She carried away with her into the Victorian drawing-room, with its odour of faded lavender, a queer sense of having been brought into momentary association with stronger and more vital things in life.
Sir Robert preferred to join his wife and sister-in-law in the drawing-room after luncheon. The Marquis, with a courteous word of invitation, led his remaining guest across the grey stone hall into the library beyond--a sparsely furnished and yet imposing looking apartment, with its great tiers of books and austere book cases. On his way, he drew attention carelessly to one or two paintings by old masters, and pointed out a remarkable statue presented by a famous Italian sculptor to his great-grandfather and now counted amongst the world's treasures. His guest watched and observed in silence. There was nothing of the uncouth sight-seer about him, still less of the fulsome dilettante. They settled themselves in comfortable chairs in a pleasant corner of the apartment.
A footman served them with coffee, a second man handed cigars, and the butler himself carried a tray of liqueurs. The Marquis assumed an attitude of complete satisfaction with the world in general.
"I am pleased to have this opportunity of a few words with you, Mr. Thain," he said. "You are quite comfortable in that chair, I trust?"
"And my Larangas are not too mild? You will find darker-coloured cigars in the cabinet by your side."
"Thank you," David Thain replied, "I smoke only mild tobacco."
"Personally," the Marquis sighed, "I can go no further than cigarettes. A vice, perhaps," he added, watching the blue smoke curl upwards, "but a fascinating one. So you came across this man Vont on the steamer. Might I ask under what circumstances?"