The sailor's merry blue eyes became thoughtful, and so, even the casual observer must have been struck by the sense of power the whole man conveyed. The face was clean shaven and of an even pink-red all over, the jaw very strong and square, the cheek bones high and the nose prominent, the mouth a straight line, the eyes deep set and not too close together as deep-set eyes usually are; in repose they looked stern and hard, when he smiled they were the most kindly looking in all the world; his figure, particularly the shoulders and chest, gave one the impression that he swung heavy-weight Indian clubs for many hours each day.
"The service makes men, but not millionaires," he remarked, and his own personality seemed the proof of the assertion.
The Rev. Hugh chimed in. "It's better to be a man than a millionaire."
The sailor smiled again. "Nature has done that for Jack," he said.
Dr Bevengton (who stayed to dinner) broke in. "It's possible to be both, I imagine."
Jack Carstairs puffed slowly at one of his father's cigars. "The line of demarcation between a man and a fool is rather hard to draw, I think."
The sailor laughed uproariously.
The parson's eyes twinkled merrily.
Dr Bevengton seemed more surprised than amused. "How?" he asked.
"Well, I've heard both a man and a fool defined in so very many different ways. One of our Scotch labourers assured me that a man who couldn't take a half tumbler of whisky neat was 'nae man at a'.' Then one frequently hears such terms as 'an ass who plays football,' or 'a fool who reads Shakespeare.'"