He had light whiskers, light
hair, and a pink complexion, and very good blue eyes. So far my uncle was
right; and if he had been perfectly gentlemanlike, he really might have
passed for a handsome man in the judgment of some critics.
But there was that odious mixture of _mauvaise honte_ and impudence, a
clumsiness, a slyness, and a consciousness in his bearing and countenance,
not distinctly boorish, but _low_, which turned his good looks into an
ugliness more intolerable than that of feature; and a corresponding
vulgarity pervading his dress, his demeanour, and his very walk, marred
whatever good points his figure possessed. If you take all this into
account, with the ominous and startling misgivings constantly recurring,
you will understand the mixed feelings of anger and disgust with which I
received the admiration he favoured me with.
Gradually he grew less constrained in my presence, and certainly his
manners were not improved by his growing ease and confidence.
He came in while Milly and I were at luncheon, jumped up, with a
'right-about face' performed in the air, sitting on the sideboard, whence
grinning slyly and kicking his heels, he leered at us.
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