Page:George Gibbs--Love of Monsieur.djvu/161

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"BRAS-DE-FER"



of princes and the intimate of a king! Astern, across the swirling wake, lay the city of pleasure, but the bitter smile that came into his face had none of the rancor of hatred. It spoke rather of failure, of disappointment, of things forsaken and unachieved.

From these reflections he was surprised by the sound of a voice at his elbow. There, beside him, stood a fat man munching at a sea-biscuit. His face, in consonance with the body, was round and flabby, but there the consistency ended, for in color it was gray, like a piece of mildewed sail-cloth. The distinguishing feature of his person was his nose, which, round and inflamed, shone like a beacon in the middle of his pallid physiognomy. His voice was lost in the immensity of his frame, for when he spoke it seemed to come from a long distance, as though choked in the utterance by the layers of flesh which hung from his chin and throat. The pucker which did duty for a frown upon his brow became a fat knot.

“You vhos a passenger upon dis schip, hey?” he said, with well-considered sarcasm. “You

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