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To bridge the awkwardness of the moment, he rearranged a napkin; and she remarked his hands. They were tanned, but they were elegantly shaped and scrupulously well taken care of the hands of a gentleman born, of an aristocrat. He could feel her gaze penetrate like acid. He grew visibly nervous. "You haven't the hand of a servant, James," quietly. He started, and knocked a fork to the floor.
"A man like me!" he resumed, becoming eloquent in his indignation, and, as I thought afterwards, entirely justifying what Wordsworth says about the language of the so-called uneducated, "A man like me, who was as proud of his honour as any aristocrat in the country prouder than any of them would grant me the right to be!" "Too proud of it, I think not too careful of it," I said.
She, the aristocrat, was wrong, and the two village ladies, members of the middle class, were right, although they were without a sense of humour and did not know that their distinguished friend was poking a little fun at them when she spoke about black puddings.
He pondered them even when he was jesting playfully with the affable aristocrat under his pencil; he spoke of them often to Clary when he was sketching at her work-table of an evening; and she, knitting beside him, would stop her work and respond freely.
"By Mercier turning first thief, then aristocrat, and playing each part so well that it seems to me he is now doubtful which he is. I have only just returned from the Lion d'Or." "You saw her?" "No, citizen. She is still in ignorance of her destination in Paris."
A slight knowledge of motors such as would be obtained from familiarity with automobiles was a marked advantage at the start, for the first task of the novice was to make himself familiar with every type of airplane engine. The army pilot in all the armies was the aristocrat of the service. Mechanics kept his motor in shape, and helpers housed, cleaned, and brought forth his machine for action.
He had thoughts of days to come, when everything would be settled, when he might sit close to her, and call her pretty names, when he might in sweet familiarity tell her that she was a little Yankee and a fierce republican, and "chaff" her about the stars and stripes; and then, as he pictured the scene to himself in his imagination, she would lean upon him and would give him back his chaff, and would call him an aristocrat and would laugh at his titles.
"When he speaks, it's always to the purpose. But there's no one here who is able to appreciate talents like his." "He's an American aristocrat." "We have no aristocrats with us. He's a great slave-owner, and immensely rich." "Very substantial claims to distinction, I must confess. You are wiser in these matters than we are. What do you think of Canada?"
Soon, however, he fell in love. He saw one other woman to place in his heart and memory beside his mother. His wife was Saskia van Ulenburg, the daughter of an aristocrat, refined and rich. He met her through her cousin, an art dealer, who had ordered Rembrandt to paint a portrait of his dainty cousin.
Yet, on the whole, a great improvement was visible in Frazer. Attired in one of David's evening dress suits, carefully groomed and trimmed, he no sooner donned the garments which gave him the outward semblance of an aristocrat than he dropped the curt, somewhat coarse, mannerisms which hitherto distinguished him from his cousin.
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