"Peregrine," said he, pausing suddenly to grasp me by the shoulders in his well-remembered way, "O Peregrine, she is the loveliest, sweetest, tenderest creature that ever made a man wish himself better—"
"Anthony," quoth I, "she is the bravest, noblest, purest maid that ever taught a man to be better!"
"She is, Peregrine!"
"They are, Anthony!"
"For one frightful moment I thought she—was killed, Perry!"
"But God is good and—Diana was there, Anthony."
"A wonderful creature, your Diana, Perry, as capable as she is handsome!"
"She is beyond all description, Anthony!"
"Yes, I can find no word for Barbara, damme!"
Now as he looked down on me, his handsome face radiant, his powerful form set off by the most elegant attire, I could not but contrast him with the forlorn, down-at-heels outcast he had been.