ways felt that he was sorry for her when Basil was rough; the Major never could have been rude to any woman, not even to a plain woman. Teresa perceived why it was that two women had fallen in love with and married the Major, to their own practical disadvantage. He was purely an article of luxury. He was a very neat old man, with smooth-shaven, rosy, withered cheeks, carefully-clipped silver hair and moustache, and the sweet blue eyes of a child. His small figure still had the military carriage, and the scar of an old wound at the corner of one eye brought out oddly the gentleness of his face. He was very well dressed; his second wife liked to see him looking smart; but he almost never had pocket-money.
In this respect he was poorer even than Gerald Dallas, who never had anything but pocket-money. Gerald always gave the Major a drink, or several, when they met, and had frequently lent him five dollars till the first of the month; but Gerald's coat, buttoned closely round his slim figure, was shiny at the seams and the pockets, and his long nose was red from the wind. He always pawned his overcoat on the first warm day, "for fear of moths," as he had explained to Teresa. The Major loved him because of his conviviality and his music, Teresa because of his Celtic melancholy and his sentiment for herself. He was one of Basil's bachelor intimates,
