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The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope
page 6 of 225 (02%)
galleries at Burlesdon, among the fifty portraits or so of the last
century and a half, you will find five or six, including that of the
sixth earl, distinguished by long, sharp, straight noses and a quantity
of dark-red hair; these five or six have also blue eyes, whereas among
the Rassendylls dark eyes are the commoner.

That is the explanation, and I am glad to have finished it: the
blemishes on honourable lineage are a delicate subject, and certainly
this heredity we hear so much about is the finest scandalmonger in the
world; it laughs at discretion, and writes strange entries between the
lines of the "Peerages".

It will be observed that my sister-in-law, with a want of logic that
must have been peculiar to herself (since we are no longer allowed to
lay it to the charge of her sex), treated my complexion almost as an
offence for which I was responsible, hastening to assume from that
external sign inward qualities of which I protest my entire innocence;
and this unjust inference she sought to buttress by pointing to the
uselessness of the life I had led. Well, be that as it may, I had picked
up a good deal of pleasure and a good deal of knowledge. I had been to
a German school and a German university, and spoke German as readily
and perfectly as English; I was thoroughly at home in French; I had a
smattering of Italian and enough Spanish to swear by. I was, I believe,
a strong, though hardly fine swordsman and a good shot. I could ride
anything that had a back to sit on; and my head was as cool a one as you
could find, for all its flaming cover. If you say that I ought to have
spent my time in useful labour, I am out of Court and have nothing
to say, save that my parents had no business to leave me two thousand
pounds a year and a roving disposition.

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