which had lost by the advance of years; which had hardened where it
was soft, and seemed likely to grow harder yet; for about the lips,
as he stood examining these pictures, came a suggestion of the vice
in blood which tends to cruelty. The nostrils began to expand and to
tremble a little; the eyes seemed to project themselves; the long
throat grew longer. Presently, he turned a glance upon the young man
standing near to him, and in that moment his expression entirely
altered.

"Why," he exclaimed, "Piers!"

The other gave a start of astonishment, and at once smiled
recognition.

"Daniel! I hadn't looked--I had no idea----" They shook hands,
with graceful cordiality on the elder man's part, with a slightly
embarrassed goodwill on that of the younger. Daniel Otway, whose age
was about eight-and-thirty, stood in the relation of
half-brotherhood to Piers, a relation suggested by no single trait
of their visages. Piers had a dark complexion, a face of the square,
emphatic type, and an eye of shy vivacity; Daniel, with the long,
smooth curves of his countenance and his chestnut hair was, in the
common sense, better looking, and managed his expression with a
skill which concealed the characteristics visible a few moments ago;
he bore himself like a suave man of the world, whereas his brother
still betrayed something of the boy in tone and gesture, something,
too, of the student accustomed to seclusion. Daniel's accent had
nothing at all in keeping with a shabby coat; that of the younger
man was less markedly refined, with much more of individuality.