"Sir Antony Thornhirst."
Our ninth gun had arrived.
"So good of you to ask me," he said, as he shook hands, and his voice sounded like smooth velvet after the others. And for a minute there was a singing in my ears.
"Jolly glad to see you," Augustus blustered. "What beastly weather!
You motored over, I suppose?"
Sir Antony sat down by me.
I remembered the ways he would be accustomed to and did not introduce him to any one.
He had exchanged casual "How do you do's" with the neighbors he knew.
I poured him out some tea.
"I don't drink it," he said, "but give me some, and sugar, and cream, and anything that will take time to put in."
I laughed.