“He was of middle height, somewhat stocky, wearing a blue jacket of good cut, but abominably wrinkled. His hair looked as if it had been hacked off with a carving knife and not seen a brush for twenty-four hours. His cravat had brownish spots on it, as of dropped tea. His rawboned, common face was redeemed from utter ugliness by a rather fine pair of brown eyes. Yet with all his sins, one sensed the gentleman lurking beneath. It was his utter lack of concern for his appearance that convinced me ...he was a gentleman. As Lady Filmore presented him to me as her friend, I had fresh tea made and brought out. "Have you seen Harelson today, Stew?" she inquired, as soon as decently possible. "Left at ten in his curricle. I was just waking up." "Are you staying with Lord Harelson?" I asked, surprised that that bored nobleman would harbor Grindley under his roof. "Hire a suite of rooms. Take breakfast there," Grindley replied. This went from bad to worse. Lord Harelson hiring out rooms? "Mean to say, nothing to let in Brighton.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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