"Articulos para Caballeros" was the
representation held forth upon its signboard.
If it had articled Mr. Perkins, it must be confessed that it had
done its job unevenly, not to say fantastically. His linen was
fresh and new, quite conspicuously so, and, therefore, in sharp
contrast to the frayed and patched, but scrupulously clean and
neatly pressed khaki suit, which set forth rather bumpily his
solid figure. A serviceable pith helmet barely overhung the
protrusive goggles. His hands were encased in white cotton gloves,
a size or two too large. Dismal buff spots on the palms impaired
their otherwise virgin purity. As the wearer carried his hands
stiffly splayed, the blemishes were obtrusive. Altogether, one
might have said that, if he were going in for farce, he was
appropriately made up for it.
At the corner above the beggar's niche he was turning toward a
pharmacist's entrance, when the mirth of the departing crowd that
had been enjoying the free oratory attracted his attention. He
glanced across at the beggar, now rocking rhythmically on his
stumps, hesitated a moment, then ran down the steps.
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