He found himself in a large apartment of polished stone. There
were three doors; one on each of three sides; all similarly
curtained with tapestry. The fourth side was occupied by two large
windows and a great stone chimney-piece, carved with the arms of
the Maletroits. Denis recognised the bearings, and was gratified
to find himself in such good hands. The room was strongly
illuminated; but it contained little furniture except a heavy table
and a chair or two, the hearth was innocent of fire, and the
pavement was but sparsely strewn with rushes clearly many days old.
On a high chair beside the chimney, and directly facing Denis as he
entered, sat a little old gentleman in a fur tippet. He sat with
his legs crossed and his hands folded, and a cup of spiced wine
stood by his elbow on a bracket on the wall. His countenance had a
strongly masculine cast; not properly human, but such as we see in
the bull, the goat, or the domestic boar; something equivocal and
wheedling, something greedy, brutal, and dangerous. The upper lip
was inordinately full, as though swollen by a blow or a toothache;
and the smile, the peaked eyebrows, and the small, strong eyes were
quaintly and almost comically evil in expression. Beautiful white
hair hung straight all round his head, like a saint's, and fell in
a single curl upon the tippet. His beard and moustache were the
pink of venerable sweetness.
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