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Uncle Bernac - A Memory of the Empire by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
page 66 of 213 (30%)
sunlight he presented rather the appearance of a pedantic schoolmaster,
an impression which was increased by the masterful, and yet benevolent,
smile with which he regarded me. In spite of his smile, I was more
conscious than ever that my whole soul shrank from him, and that I
should not be at my ease until I had broken this companionship which had
been so involuntarily formed. He carried a heap of clothes over one
arm, which he threw upon a chair at the bottom of my bed.

'I gather from the little that you told me last night,' said he, 'that
your wardrobe is at present somewhat scanty. I fear that your inches
are greater than those of anyone in my household, but I have brought a
few things here amongst which you may find something to fit you.
Here, too, are the razors, the soap, and the powder-box. I will return
in half an hour, when your toilet will doubtless be completed.'

I found that my own clothes, with a little brushing, were as good as
ever, but I availed myself of his offer to the extent of a ruffled shirt
and a black satin cravat. I had finished dressing and was looking out
of the window of my room, which opened on to a blank wall, when my host
returned. He looked me all over with a keenly scrutinising eye, and
appeared to be satisfied with what he saw.

'That will do! That will do very well indeed!' said he, nodding a
critical head. 'In these times a slight indication of travel or hard
work upon a costume is more fashionable than the foppishness of the
Incroyable. I have heard ladies remark that it was in better taste.
Now, sir, if you will kindly follow me.'

His solicitude about my dress filled me with surprise, but this was soon
forgotten in the shock which was awaiting me. For as we passed down the
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