But, "Never mind," said her
mother; "they'll do very well as they are--side by side, with the door
conveniently between. Then Bert can look after him a little more and we a
little less."
Lemoyne presented himself to the combined family gaze as a young man of
twenty-seven or so, with dark, limpid eyes, a good deal of dark, wavy hair,
and limbs almost too plumply well-turned. In his hands the flesh minimized
the prominence of joints and knuckles, and the fingers (especially the
little fingers) displayed certain graceful, slightly affected movements of
the kind which may cause a person to be credited--or taxed--with possessing
the "artistic temperament." To end with, he carried two inches of short
black stubble under his nose. He was a type which one may admire--or not.
Rosalys Cope found in him a sort of picturesque allure. Rather liking him
herself, she found a different reason for her brother's liking. "If Bert
cares for him," she remarked, "I suppose it's largely by contrast--he's so
spare and light-colored himself."
It was evident that, on this first meeting, Lemoyne meant to ingratiate
himself--to make himself attractive and entertaining.
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