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South Wind by Norman Douglas
page 24 of 496 (04%)
Denis?"

"It is a miracle he has lived so long, with that face," added Don
Francesco. "I think God created him in order that mankind should have
some idea of the meaning of the word 'grotesque.'"

The proud title "Commissioner" caused the bishop to pay particular
attention to the other of the two individuals in question. He beheld a
stumpy and pompous-looking personage, flushed in the face, with a
moth-eaten grey beard and shifty grey eyes, clothed in a flannel shirt,
tweed knickerbockers, brown stockings, white spats and shoes. Such was
the Commissioner's invariable get-up, save that in winter he wore a cap
instead of a panama. He was smoking a briar pipe and looking blatantly
British, as if he had just spent an unwashed night in a third-class
carriage between King's Cross and Aberdeen. The magistrate, on the
other hand--the red-haired man--was jauntily dressed, with a straw hat on
one side of his repulsive head, and plenty of starch about him.

"I never knew we had a Commissioner here," said Mr. Heard.

Keith replied:

"We haven't. He is Financial Commissioner for Nicaragua. An
incomparable ass is Mr. Freddy Parker."

"Oh, he has a sensible idea now and then, when he forgets to be a
fool," observed Don Francesco. "He is President of the Club, Mr. Heard.
They will elect you honorary member. Take my advice. Avoid the whisky."

Denis remarked, after a critical glance in the same direction:
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