The treble accusation
revealed to her, for the first time, the frightful suspicion to
which she had exposed herself. She shrank back with a low cry of
horror, and struck against a chair. She would have fallen if
Julian had not sprung forward and caught her.
Lady Janet led the way into the library. She opened the door--
started--and suddenly stepped aside, so as to leave the entrance
free.
A man appeared in the open doorway.
He was not a gentleman; he was not a workman; he was not a
servant. He was vilely dressed, in glossy black broadcloth. His
frockcoat hung on him instead of fitting him. His waistcoat was
too short and too tight over the chest. His trousers were a pair
of shapeless black bags. His gloves were too large for him. His
highly-polished boots creaked detestably whenever he moved. He
had odiously watchful eyes--eyes that looked skilled in peeping
through key-holes. His large ears, set forward like the ears of a
monkey, pleaded guilty to meanly listening behind other people's
doors. His manner was quietly confidential when he spoke,
impenetrably self-possessed when he was silent. A lurking air of
secret service enveloped the fellow, like an atmosphere of his
own, from head to foot.
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