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He is at work in a quiet alcove of the college library, a man just entering sixty, with white, close-trimmed hair and beard. The eyes he raises to his granddaughter are like hers, and there is a further resemblance in the dark skin. His face brightens and his eyes kindle as he clasps Sylvia's slender, supple hand. "It must be a student are you sure he isn't a student?" Sylvia was confident of it.
The lad in the cart had driven off, and the gentleman from the city and the pale country boy with the patched trousers stood looking at each other. The newcomer was a man of fifty or so, but still straight and active, though his hair and close-trimmed beard were sprinkled with grey.
Whirling his horse and digging in the spurs, he rattled pell-mell down the opposite steep toward Cottonville, shouting as he went. "They've done got him they've found him! Miss Johnnie Consadine's a-bringin' him down in his own cyar!" At the Hardwick place, where the front lawn sloped down with its close-trimmed, green-velvet sward, stood two horses.
This face possessed a pair of keen gray eyes, a distinguished nose, and a determined mouth beneath a close-trimmed moustache with flecks of gray in it. Brown sprang up. "Doctor Brainard!" he cried joyfully, and came forward with outstretched hand. The unexpected guest advanced. Behind him appeared others.
"It's only to answer a few questions. I understand you lost a ring at the Rosherwich Gardens yesterday evening: that's so, isn't it?" He was a military looking person, as Leander now perceived, and he had a close-trimmed iron-grey beard, a high colour, quick eyes, and a stiff hard-lipped mouth not at all the kind of man to trifle with.
Above medium height, well but leanly built, the face of Seton "Pasha" was burned to a deeper shade than England's wintry sun is capable of producing. He wore a close-trimmed beard and moustache, and the bronze on his cheeks enhanced the brightness of his grey eyes and rendered very noticeable a slight frosting of the dark hair above his temples.
His thin oval face, with curled moustache and close-trimmed beard, wears a somewhat pensive look, as if already shadowed by the destiny that awaited him. The intervening year since Ribaut's voyage had been a dark year for France. From the peaceful solitude of the River of May, that voyager returned to a land reeking with slaughter. But the carnival of bigotry and hate had found a pause.
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