” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. "Another such attempt," said the latter, "and you are a dead man. God help me. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. On his return to London, he found that applications had been made from a somewhat doubtful quarter by two individuals, for the posts of subordinate officers in his troop.
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