favourite attitude--legs extended, hands in pockets, nose in air.

'So, I suppose,' he said presently, 'that fellow really has been
ill?'

Adela was sitting in thought; she looked up with a shadow of
annoyance on her face.

'That fellow?'

'Eldon, you know.'

'I want to ask you a question,' said his sister, interlocking her
fingers and pressing them against her throat. 'Why do you always
speak in a contemptuous way of Mr. Eldon?'

'You know I don't like the individual.'

'What cause has "the individual" given you?'

'He's a snob.'

'I'm not sure that I know what that means,' replied Adela, after
thinking for a moment with downcast eyes.

'Because you never read anything. He's a fellow who raises a great
edifice of pretence on rotten foundations.'

'What can you mean? Mr. Eldon is a gentleman. What pretence is he
guilty of?'