His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. Paintings sold off the walls. And then as we went down you’d try to explain. I have been used to living in apartments in Paris, but I suppose the system is different here. .
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