His walk is rather a slouch; he has a way of
keeping his hands in his pockets, and of jerking out his
sentences; a way, above all, of seeming perfectly indifferent to
the comfort of the people he happens to be addressing. The
impression he gives is one of power, not of refinement; and the
massive face, with its heavy lines, and eyes that are usually
veiled, seems to give no clue whatever to the character of the
man within._
_The couple break apart when they enter the room;_ LADY ALINE _is
the least bit nervous, though she shows no trace of it;_ MR.
CROCKSTEAD _absolutely imperturbable and undisturbed._
CROCKSTEAD. [_Looking around._] Ah--this is the place--very quiet,
retired, romantic--et cetera. Music in the distance--all very appropriate
and sentimental.
[_She leaves him, and sits, quietly fanning herself; he stands, looking
at her._] You seem perfectly calm, Lady Aline?
ALINE. [_Sitting._] Conservatories are not unusual appendages to a
ball-room, Mr. Crockstead; nor is this conservatory unlike other
conservatories.
CROCKSTEAD [_Turning to her._] I wonder why women are always so evasive?
ALINE. With your permission we will not discuss the sex. You and I are too
old to be cynical, and too young to be appreciative. And besides, it is a
rule of mine, whenever I sit out a dance, that my partner shall avoid the
subjects of women--and golf.
CROCKSTEAD. You limit the area of conversation. But then, in this
particular instance, I take it, we have not come here to talk?
ALINE.
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