He removed his hat--with a flourish which, as usual, was reminiscent of the transpontine drama.
"Madam, ten thousand, if you wish it."
"Are you the person who travelled in the next compartment to my husband's from Brighton?"
"Madam, I am."
"You look it."
The fellow might be excused for looking a little startled--which he certainly did do. I have found that particular tone of Lucy's, now and then, a little startling myself. The man did not seem as if he quite knew what to make of it.
"I look it, madam--how do you mean?"
"You look the sort of character."
"To what sort of character, madam, do you refer?"
"You look like the sort of person who would wear another man's clothes."