In the bad light he looked at once military and sentimental and studious, like one of Ouida’s guardsmen revised by Mr. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. On all hands Jack was cheered, and Jonathan hooted. “Oh yes,” said Miss Klegg; “I thought every one knew. The voices went into his ears but left no impression of their import.
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