Explore "The King Diamond" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
For the moment, at any rate, the office in Bishopsgate-street with all its responsibilities was forgotten. There and then in the sunshine on the crowded pavement Stella could see nothing but the young man before her and a dim background of pleasant memories with which he was intimately connected. The fields and the woods and the light falling on old-world gardens and pleasant intimacies in the ancient rooms where the Ravenhills and the Blys had foregathered for centuries.
Quite a presentable young man, too. Just a typical Englishman to his finger-tips, with that clean and wholesome look that goes with the better brand of Briton the world over. Not dressed after the manner of Bond-street on a summer morning, but with a certain air of distinction that is at once so marked and yet so absolutely indescribable. Not handsome, either, but with the brand of sterling integrity and a pair of eyes that looked everybody smilingly and bravely in the face.