My recollections of W. J. Greenstreet date back half a century when we were both undergraduates at Cambridge, but we did not become personally acquainted till many years later. He had a slightly stooping figure and kind protective face which dissolved any feeling of awe produced by his great strength and height, penetrating eyes, and full-grown beard. He had two inseparable friends, E. F. J. Love and G. F. Stout. When in company together they drew the attention of every one who saw them. They looked more like three generations than contemporaries, Greenstreet being plainly the responsible head and Stout the cheerful but inscrutable infant, while Love appeared to be more normal and rather embarrassed by the strangeness of his companions.
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