The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. So far as regards his attire, Baptist was not seen to advantage. " "What is this to me, Sir?" said Trenchard, cutting him short. There was nothing in his manner to suggest the misery of the preceding night. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. That might happen on her birthday—in August. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience.
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