There’s plenty to be got out of life in a decent sort of way. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. ‘Read that,’ and threw the telegram at me, so that it went into the tureen. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. It’s wrong in the eyes of most people.
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