This man had
a not quite agreeable face; inasmuch as it was smoothly shaven, and
exhibited a peculiar mobility, it might have denoted him an actor;
but the actor is wont to twinkle a good-natured mood which did not
appear upon this visage. The contour was good, and spoke
intelligence; the eyes must once have been charming. It was a face
which had lost by the advance of years; which had hardened where it
was soft, and seemed likely to grow harder yet; for about the lips,
as he stood examining these pictures, came a suggestion of the vice
in blood which tends to cruelty. The nostrils began to expand and to
tremble a little; the eyes seemed to project themselves; the long
throat grew longer. Presently, he turned a glance upon the young man
standing near to him, and in that moment his expression entirely
altered.
"Why," he exclaimed, "Piers!"
The other gave a start of astonishment, and at once smiled
recognition.
"Daniel! I hadn't looked--I had no idea----" They shook hands,
with graceful cordiality on the elder man's part, with a slightly
embarrassed goodwill on that of the younger. Daniel Otway, whose age
was about eight-and-thirty, stood in the relation of
half-brotherhood to Piers, a relation suggested by no single trait
of their visages. Piers had a dark complexion, a face of the square,
emphatic type, and an eye of shy vivacity; Daniel, with the long,
smooth curves of his countenance and his chestnut hair was, in the
common sense, better looking, and managed his expression with a
skill which concealed the characteristics visible a few moments ago;
he bore himself like a suave man of the world, whereas his brother
still betrayed something of the boy in tone and gesture, something,
too, of the student accustomed to seclusion.
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