His
immense form towered above his guests, and his tremendous bass voice
dominated the hum of conversation round him. Lady Holme could see from
where she stood that he was in a jovial and audacious mood. The dinner to
Sir Jacob Rowley had evidently been well cooked and gay. Fritz had the
satisfied and rather larky air of a man who has been having one good time
and intends to have another. She glanced into the drawing-rooms. They
were crammed. She saw in the distance Lady Cardington talking to Sir
Donald Ulford. Both of them looked rather pathetic. Mrs. Wolfstein was
not far off, standing in the midst of a group and holding forth with
almost passionate vivacity and self-possession. Her husband was gliding
sideways through the crowd with his peculiarly furtive and watchful air,
which always suggested the old nursery game, "Here I am on Tom Tiddler's
ground, picking up gold and silver." Lady Manby was laughing in a corner
with an archdeacon who looked like a guardsman got up in fancy dress. Mr.
Bry, his eyeglass fixed in his left eye, came towards the staircase,
moving delicately like Agag, and occasionally dropping a cold or
sarcastic word to an acquaintance. He reached Lady Holme when Lord Holme
was half-way up the stairs, and at once saw him.
"A giant refreshed with wine," he observed, dropping his eyeglass.
It was such a perfect description of Lord Holme in his present condition
that two or three people who were standing with Lady Holme smiled,
looking down the staircase.
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