" The tone was neutral. ” He shook his head, and his eyes and the mouth under the black mustache wrinkled with his smile. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. ‘How do you like England?’ ‘People have been very kind,’ Valade said, answering for them both. He felt the first sting of the whip. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. You see—I didn’t understand. He was confounded by the presence in which he found himself. You may perceive harmony, proportion, rhythm, intensely.
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