His manner very soon left me in no doubt as to what I had done. I had
brought the most intense relief to the Captain's innocent mind. I do not
know by what subtle shades he managed to convey to me that, compared with
the queer chap I so easily might have been, he found me distinctly
agreeable. It was obvious that I existed for him only as the chap, the
strange and legendary chap, that Viola had taken up with, and that in
this capacity he, to his own amazement, approved of me. I gathered that,
knowing his sister, he had feared the worst, and that the blessed relief
of it was more than he could bear if he didn't let himself go a bit.

He had quite evidently come, or had been sent, to see what Viola was up
to. Possibly he may have had in his mind the extraordinary treatment I
had received from his father, and he may have been anxious to atone.

Any relief that I might have brought to Captain Thesiger was surpassed by
the reassurance that I took from my first sight of him. It was as if I
had instantly argued to myself: "This is the sort of thing that has
produced Viola. This is the sort of man she has been brought up with.
When Viola thinks of men it is this sort of man she is thinking of. It is
therefore inconceivable that Tasker Jevons should exist for her otherwise
than as a curious intellectual freak. Even _her_ perversity couldn't--no,
it could not--fall so far from this familiar perfection." Though Captain
Thesiger's perfection might not help me personally, it did dispose of
little Jevons. Looking at him, I felt as if my uneasiness, you may say my
jealousy, of Jevons (it almost amounted to that) had been an abominable
insult to his sister.

Reggie--he is my brother-in-law now, and I cannot go on calling him
Captain Thesiger--Reggie was good enough to say that he had heard of me
from his sister. His voice conveyed, without any vulgar implication, an