‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. She would end this sham with Manning. He was silent. The rear of the party was brought up by a large, powerfully-built man, with a bluff, honest, but rugged countenance, slashed with many a cut and scar, and stamped with that surly, sturdy, bull-dog-like look, which an Englishman always delights to contemplate, because he conceives it to be characteristic of his countrymen. She had tried to shift the subject of conversation away from herself and was even managing successfully until Chen the father addressed her. ’ Gerald eyed her with interest. Everything was done in the most legal and imposing way, but the whole thing was a fraud. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat.
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