Remembering as he passed
the gate posts that he had spoken no parting word to the group under the
mulberry tree, he raised himself in his stirrups, and called back "Good
day to you. Many thanks," in his pleasant voice.
CHAPTER II
IN WHICH DESTINY WEARS THE COMIC MASK
Putting his horse to a canter, Mr. Jonathan Gay rode through the old
gate into the turnpike. His still indignant look was fixed on the
heavy wheelruts ahead, while his handsome though fleshy figure inclined
slightly forward in the saddle after a foreign fashion. Seen close
at hand his face, which was impressive at a distance, lost a certain
distinction of contour, as though the marks of experience had blurred,
rather than accentuated, the original type. The bones of forehead and
nose still showed classic in outline, but in moulding the mouth and chin
nature had not adhered closely to the aristocratic structure beneath.
The flesh sagged a little in places; the brow was a trifle too heavy,
the jaw a trifle too prominent, the lips under the short dark moustache
were a trifle too full. Yet in spite of this coarseness of finish, his
face was well coloured, attractive, and full of generous, if whimsical,
humour.
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