performed almost all his gestures; it was more important than the
glittering eye-glasses through which he looked or the beautiful
bleating voice in which he spoke. His face and neck were of a
lusty red, but lean and stringy; he always wore his expensive
gold-rim eye-glasses slightly askew upon his aquiline nose; and
he always showed two gleaming foreteeth under his moustache, in a
smile so perpetual as to earn the reputation of a sneer. But for
the crooked glasses his dress was always exquisite; and but for
the smile he was perfectly and perennially depressed.

"Don't you think," said the new-comer, with a sort of
supercilious entreaty, "that we had better all come into
breakfast? It is such a mistake to wait for breakfast. It spoils
one's temper so much."

"Quite so," replied Turnbull, seriously.

"There seems almost to have been a little quarrelling here," said
the man with the goatish beard.

"It is rather a long story," said Turnbull, smiling. "Originally,
it might be called a phase in the quarrel between science and
religion."

The new-comer started slightly, and Turnbull replied to the
question on his face.

"Oh, yes," he said, "I am science!"

"I congratulate you heartily," answered the other, "I am Doctor