"Well?"
"I love the South. You know that. But I distrust what I love, and I see the South in him."
"The grace, the charm, the enticement of the South."
"All that, certainly. You said he had reverence. Probably he has, but has he faithfulness?"
"Oh, Emile!"
"You told me to be frank."
"And I wish you to be. Go on, say everything."
"I've only seen Delarey once, and I'll confess that I came prepared to see faults as clearly as, perhaps more clearly than, virtues. I don't pretend to read character at a glance. Only fools can do that—I am relying on their frequent assertion that they can. He strikes me as a man of great charm, with an unusual faculty of admiration for the gifts of others and a modest estimate of himself. I believe he's sincere."
"He is, through and through."
"I think so—now. But does he know his own blood? Our blood governs us when the time comes. He is modest about his intellect. I think it quick, but I doubt its being strong enough to prove a good restraining influence."