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Miss Lucy Acton sat with her eyes veiled by downcast lids fixed in a stare as lifeless as the dead upon her hands, which lay clasped in her lap. So motionless was she, you would have said she slept. Much of the lovely bloom that always gave to her lineaments a choice sweetness was absent, but not the less[Pg 281] did as much of her face as was visible express its refined and delicate beauty.,

Mr Lawrence was for a few days very uneasy, but uneasy is a mild term to express the state of a man's mind that starts at a look or an exclamation, who fancies he is whispered about when two go past him talking, who expects that every man who approaches him is going to speak to him about the letter he has found, who imagines that every look that his father fastens upon him is a prelude to a tremendous attack, who is willing to attribute the silence of Captain Acton to the consideration of what steps in the face of such an enormity should be taken by him against the son of his old friend Sir William Lawrence.,

"What are you doing at that cabin door, sir?" asked Mr Lawrence. "I do not enquire what you are doing in this cabin, for, according to the custom of this ship, and perhaps of others in your Service, you take your meals here. But what are you doing at that door, conversing through it with the lady inside?",

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"One might notice a man's ill-temper," said the Admiral, "if he were over you; but when he is under you—there used to be a saying in my day—it's in the power of an officer to ride down any man under him.",

Hinter possessed a well modulated voice whose accent bespoke refinement and education. He had come into the Settlement about a year ago from no one knew where, apparently possessed of sufficient money to do as he pleased. An aged colored woman kept house for him. He held aloof from his neighbors, was reticent in manner, but nothing could be said against him. He led an exemplary if somewhat secluded life, gave freely to the church which he never attended, and was respected by the people of Scotia. With the children he was a great favorite. He was a tall man, gaunt and strong of frame and well past middle age. His face was grave and his blue eyes steady. He was fond of hunting and usually wore—as he was wearing today—a suit of corduroys. He kept a pair of ferocious dogs, why nobody knew, for they never accompanied him on his hunts.,

Lucy heard a church bell strike: she started from a fit of abstraction, and, turning to move on, confronted an old man who was crossing the bridge. The face of this old man was pale and wrinkled; his hair was long and quite white. His nose streamed down his face in a thin, curling outline; his mouth when his lips were compressed might be expressed by a simple stroke of a pencil.[Pg 30] His eyes were deep-seated and extraordinarily luminous and swift in their motions, and his eyebrows, which were as white as his hair, were so thick and overhanging that they might have passed for a couple of white mice sleeping on his brow. His apparel had that dim and faded look which in fiction is associated with miserliness. His high and dingy white cravat and the tall build of his coat at the back of his head, so sloped his shoulders that they looked to make a line with his arms. He wore a faded red waistcoat which sank very low, and under it dangled a bunch of seals. His knee-breeches left painfully visible the pipe-stem shanks clothed in grey hose and terminating in large shoes, burdened with steel buckles.,

"He proposes that you should take the vessel out to the West Indies and bring her home. He pays twelve pounds a month, and gives a commission on the earnings of the ship. What do you say?"