I hadn’t waited very long when Major Lewis came. He was a large man, over six feet, I should judge, dressed in rough grey Harris tweeds. I don’t as a rule pay much attention to men’s faces, but considering the events of the last hour and the purpose of our calling in this man, I studied him with some interest. Boyd had impressed me with the seriousness of Catherine’s position, largely by what I felt he’d left unsaid. I therefore felt we were for good or ill, so to speak, in this man’s hands.
I thought there was something reassuring about his tanned irregular features. He was not handsome, but he was distinguished looking, to use an abused phrase. He had “manner.” He was reserved but not cold; in fact, it was the rather firm kindliness about him that later impressed me most. His blue eyes
