Supposing there are some other people somewhere, people we don’t know?

Once she had said to him, ‘Supposing there are some other people somewhere, people we don’t know?’
He had looked at her seriously.
‘What sort of people?’
‘Perfectly charming people. Really delightful, intelligent, amusing, civilized…And we don’t know them, and nobody we know knows them. And they don’t know us and they don’t know anybody we know.’
Bob had thought for a moment and then he had said, ‘It’s impossible. But if it were not impossible, then I don’t think I should want to know such people. I don’t think I should find anything in common with them.’ 

I. Colegate, The shooting party (1980), 120

He believed - of course he believed - that Renaissance man had been best embodied in the eighteenth-century English gentleman

He believed - of course he believed - that Renaissance man had been best embodied in the eighteenth-century English gentleman, and it was this figure, standing in his library, a book in one hand, the other resting on a piece of classical sculpture, gazing out over a landscape harmoniously ordered by himself and under his guidance his tenants, in the consciousness that from time to time he would be called upon to play a part in the government of his country or its defence, and that in due course his eldest son would take his place and stand at his library window and deal with his tenants and show his visitors the improvements  - it was this figure in Sur Randolph's mind accorded so ill with striking industrial workers, screaming suffragettes, Irish terrorists, scandals on the Stock Exchange, universal suffrage.  

I. Colegate, The shooting party (1980), 108-9