His form was as slender and elastic, his step as light, his
teeth, hair, and complexion, as unexceptionable as though he had been
twenty-five; nor were there any of those signs and symptoms about him by
which the weather-wise usually measure experience and length of days.
If care had come nigh him at all, it had swept as lightly past him as
time itself. His address was invariably urbane, self-possessed,
well-bred; his voice was pleasant, his smile rather brilliant, though it
never reached his eyes, except when he sneered, which was rarely and
terribly.
They glittered then with a strange cold light, those variegated orbs,
but their ordinary expression was earnest and investigatory. They were
well-cut eyes, moreover, of a yellowish-brown color, and I used to
remark as a little child--for children observe the minutiae of personal
peculiarities much more closely than their elders--that the iris of both
orbs was speckled with green and golden spots, which seemed to mix and
dilate occasionally, and gave them a decidedly kaleidoscopic effect.
His skin was clear and even florid, and his lips had the peculiarity of
turning suddenly white, or rather livid, without any evident cause. This
my father thought betokened disease of the heart, but I learned later to
know it was the only manifestation of suppressed feeling which the habit
of his life could not overcome, and that proved him still mortal and
fallible.
Pages:
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51