The Estray - Chapter 9 Gray Envelopes

It was softly lighted and pleasantly warmed. A fire burned. The tall,
fair visitor rose from a seat near the blaze and turned all in one
rigid piece toward his advancing host. Jasper was perfectly conscious
that his own gesture and speech of greeting were too eager, too
ingratiating, that they had a touch of servility. He hated them
himself, but they were inherited with his blood, as instinctive as the
wagging of a dog's tail. They were met by a precise bow, no smile, no
taking of his outstretched hand.

Jasper drew himself up at once, put the slighted hand on the back of a
tall, crimson-damask chair, and looked his stateliest and most
handsome self.

"Betty hasn't come in yet," he said. "You've been waiting for her?"

Woodward Kane pulled at his short, yellow mustache and stared at
Jasper with his large, blank, blue eyes. "As a matter of fact I didn't
call to see my sister, but to see you. I have just come from
Elizabeth. She is at my house. She came to me this morning."

Jasper's fingers tightened on the chair. "She is sick?"

"No." There was a pause during which the blank, blue eyes staring at
him slowly gathered a look of cold pleasure. Jasper was aware that
this man who hated him was enjoying his present mission.

"Shall we sit down? I shall have to take a good deal of your time, I
am afraid. There is rather a good deal to be gone over."