As if fond of contradiction, he wore at the same time a ridiculous
superfluity of jewellery; his unwashed hands were adorned with rings, and
his shirt, which probably had not visited his _blanchisseuse_ for a
fortnight, was garnished with numerous brooches and pins of considerable
value. A heavy gold chain secured his watch in his waistcoat pocket, and
he carried two massive gold boxes, one for snuff, though he took none
himself, and the other for tobacco. His face was pale and emaciated, the
cheek bones being remarkably prominent; his left arm was considerably
contracted, as he was fond of saying, from a pistol wound received in a
duel. His habits were low; when not at the gaming house, he was to be
found in one of the lower English houses, smoking and drinking,
entertaining his pot companions, and acting what is vulgarly called, the
"king of the company." He possessed a fund of anecdote and wit, and had
his manners been more polished, and his character less exceptionable, his
society would doubtless have been much courted.
His lodgings, which were in the Palais Royal, above the Cafe Phoenix, were
particularly filthy; his bedroom, into which all visiters were shown, was
truly disgusting; though he had at the same time two sitting-rooms,
handsomely furnished, which were constantly locked, and into which he
himself perhaps did not enter once in a month.
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