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17--2020, 09:35 / 0
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He had been singularly handsome, as was Trafford, and there was a strong resemblance between father and son. One noticed it in the expression in the eyes, in the movement of the brows, but, more markedly, in a certain turn of the head. His grace was listening, with a genial courtliness, to Lord Selvaine, and as Trafford entered, the wrinkled face beamed with a soft smile. Holding out the white hand, he said, in a musical voice, which echoed that of his son:“What’s wonderful?” she asked. , , ,...
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Mr. Helby was a middle-aged man, with a hard, honest face, and iron-gray hair. His father and his grandfather before him had been stewards of Belfayre, and he had inherited their integrity and faithful devotion to the family which they had served. Trafford, as he shook hands with him, saw that he had brought a bundle of papers and books with him, and as he sunk into a chair, he said: ... ...
2021
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“Barker might take me to take care of her,” she said; “and I don’t think Thomas, for all he’s tall as a lamp-post, would be much use in a row. He looks as if he’d break off if he bent too suddenly. Besides, there never is any row, is there? It always looks so quiet when we drive through. And those policemen—what are they for? No. I won’t have Barker or Thomas, and I’ll go alone—if you won’t come with me.”It was the smallest of the reception-rooms, but as wonderful in its way as the stateliest of the saloons and the huge dining-room. The walls were lined with book-cases of rosewood, relieved by ormolu and Wedgwood plaques; some of the[91] volumes were priceless; and the library, as a whole, was a famous one. A fire was burning, and beside it, in an easy-chair, reclined the Duke of Belfayre. He was tall and very thin, with snow-white hair and a perfectly colorless face, lined by innumerable wrinkles. With his clean-cut features, his long, white hands, his air of perfect repose and gracious benignity, he looked every inch a duke. ...