This looked in no wise probable; he went about too much at lordly ease
for that. In the end, the notion obtained that Richard must be a needy
dependent of Mr. Gwynn, and his perfect clothes and the thoroughbred
horse he rode were pointed to as evidences of that gentleman's
generosity. Indeed, Mr. Gwynn was much profited in reputation thereby.

Richard, while not known, was not liked. He wore the air of one
self-centered, and cold to all judgments except his own. This last makes
no friends, but only enemies for him whose position is problematical.
Richard's pose of insolent indifference would have been beautiful in a
gentleman who counted his fortune by millions; in a dollarless beggar
who lived off alms it was detestable. Wherefore, the town, so far as
Richard encountered it, left our silent, supercilious one to himself,
which neglect dove-tailed with his humor and was the precise lonely thing
he sought. This gave still further edge to the public's disregard; no
one likes you to accept with grace what is intended for punishment.

Matzai carried away the breakfast tray, and Richard lighted a cigar.
Matzai returned and stood mute inside the door, awaiting new commands.
Richard pointed through the cigar-smoke to the clock--one of those
soundless, curious creatures of brass and glass and ivory which is wound
but once in four hundred days, and of which the hair-hung pendulum
twists and turns and does not swing.

"In an hour! Eleven o'clock!" said Richard.

At the risk of shaking him in general standing it should be called to
your notice that Richard preceded breakfast with no strong waters.
Richard would drink nothing more generous than coffee, and, speaking in
the sense limited, tobacco was his only vice. Perhaps he stuck to cigars