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Joe turned and met Oscar Heming, delicatessen man, stumpy, bull-necked, with fierce bristling mustache, and clothes much too big for him. He was made a member at once of the Stove Circle. That same evening Joe went down three steps into a little, low, cigar store, whose gas-blazing atmosphere reeked with raw and damp tobacco. He stepped up to the dusty counter. "What's your best?"
Go on and smoke my mistake!" This time Anthony had a good look at him. He was young, thin, already faded; he was like his own mustache; he was like a great piece of shiny straw. His chin receded, faintly; this was offset by a magnificent and unconvincing scowl, a scowl that Anthony was to connect with the faces of many young officers during the ensuing year.
It represented an impossibly large-eyed girl, cowering behind a door on whose other side stood a handsome devil in evening dress. He was tugging villainously at a wicked mustache, and his eyes were thrillingly leery. Behind a curtain stood a young man who held a revolver and waited. The title of the picture decided Kedzie. It was "The Vampire's Victim; a Scathing Exposure of High Society."
If that awful-looking mountaineer that man with the long hair and mustache, and that horrible gold ring, why such a ring? was only different! But he was probably gorging beefsteak or venison with her father and Mr. Waterhouse, men were always such selfish creatures! and had quite forgotten all about her.
But his face looks haggard and care-worn, and his grizzled mustache has a cynical curl even in sleep. At a sound he starts, opening wide those watchful gray eyes an instant, then closing them quickly. It is a footstep approaching. Stealthily it comes, and passes by his side. Then silence broken only by the crackle and roar of the flames.
There will be a houghing shortly after dawn. The days of thy English are now numbered." "By those there?" "Ay, by those, there! Come!" They climbed down the steps again, the Rajput humming to himself and smiling grimly into his mustache. "Ay! There will be a houghing shortly after dawn!" he muttered. "Would only that I were there to see!... Where are the sepoys?" he demanded. "I know not.
Lord Westmere stroked his long white mustache with his bloodless hand and looked at Alexander blankly. Hilda was a good story-teller. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, as if she had alighted there for a moment only. Her primrose satin gown seemed like a soft sheath for her slender, supple figure, and its delicate color suited her white Irish skin and brown hair.
Since the discovery of the cat, King had been too ready to see affront where none was meant, and the Reverend John, buffer-state and general confidant, had worked for a week to bring about a good understanding. He was fat, clean-shaven, except for a big mustache, of an imperturbable good temper, and, those who loved him least said, a guileful Jesuit.
An interview between the "General" and one of our company, as he viewed the former and was struck with his appearance, was as follows: "Well, 'General, you are the most perfect-looking specimen of a soldier I ever beheld. That piercing eye, the grizzly mustache, the firm jaw, the pose of the head, that voice in fact, the whole make-up fills to the full the measure of a man of war."
The nose was large and well-defined. All framed in a tangle of blond beard and mustache which, if anything, added to the general manliness of his appearance. He, too, wore khaki, but with the addition of tan riding-leggings, which had seen anything but rocking-horse service. The man was yellow from the top of his helmet to the soles of his shoes outside.
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