Explore "The Saving Clause" by H.C. McNeile on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Henry Partington was a jovial-looking man of about fifty. His hair was turning distinctly grey, but his face had that cheerful ruddiness of colouring which made him appear several years younger. A permanent twinkle in his clear brown eyes, and a pleasant, infectious laugh completed the picture of a care-free, middle-aged man who found life good, and who wanted other people to find it good also.
Being clean-shaven, the first impression he generally gave was that he was a retired naval officer, and his intimate knowledge of various odd corners of the globe helped the illusion. Other people, on the contrary, were wont to put him down as one of that fine, but alas! diminishing band of landed gentry whose principal occupations are riding to hounds, shooting and fishing. And only one or two shrewd, hard-faced men put him down for what he really was--a rascal who lived by his wits.