Swithin heard extremely well when anybody attacked him.

“What’s that?” he said. “I know a⁠—pretty⁠—woman when I see one, and all I can say is, I don’t see the young man about that’s fit for her; but perhaps⁠—you⁠—do, come, perhaps⁠—you⁠—do!”

“Oh?” murmured Aunt Hester, “ask Juley!”

Long before they reached Robin Hill, however, the unaccustomed airing had made him terribly sleepy; he drove with his eyes closed, a lifetime of deportment alone keeping his tall and bulky form from falling askew.

Bosinney, who was watching, came out to meet them, and all three entered the house together; Swithin in front making play with a stout gold-mounted Malacca cane, put into his hand by Adolf, for his knees were feeling the effects of their long stay in the same position. He had assumed his fur coat, to guard against the draughts of the unfinished house.