She saw herself in the glass--a pretty, fair, typically English-looking
woman, with neatly-chiselled features, well-arranged _blond-cendre_
hair, a tall, slight figure, and a very thin neck. She noticed, among
the other people waiting, a shabby-looking man of about thirty-five, who
looked so intensely uncomfortable that she pitied him. He had a vague,
rough, drab beard, colourless hair, which was very thick in front and
very thin at the back, quite indefinite features, an undecided
expression, and the most extraordinary clothes she had ever seen. The
shirt-front was soft, and was in large bulging pleats. He wore an
abnormal-looking big black tie, and the rest of the costume suggested a
conjurer who had arrived at a children's party in the country and had
forgotten his dress-suit, and borrowed various portions of it from
different people staying in the house, who were either taller or shorter
than himself. The waistcoat ended too soon, and the coat began too late;
the collar reminded one of Gladstone; while the buttonhole of orchids
(placed, rather eccentrically, very low down on the coat) completed the
general effect of political broadmindedness, combined with acute
social anxiety.

He looked several times at Edith with a furtive but undisguised
admiration. Then Bruce appeared, held out his hand cordially, and said,
'Ah, Raggett, here you are!'




CHAPTER X


A Musical Afternoon