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Updated: May 26, 2025
A decent-looking servant-woman opened the door, and to my inquiry replied that Herr M -y was certainly at home, but whether engaged or not she could not answer. She ushered me into a small apartment on my right, which seemed intended for a reception-room.
Of our immediate constellation, Sir Richard Maistre was the only member on whom the eye was tempted to linger. The others were obvious simple equations, soluble 'in the head. But he called for slate and pencil, offered materials for doubt and speculation, though it would not have been easy to tell wherein they lay. What displayed itself to a cursory inspection was quite unremarkable: simply a decent-looking young Englishman, of medium stature, with square-cut plain features, reddish-brown hair, grey eyes, and clothes and manners of the usual pattern. Yet, showing through this ordinary surface, there was something cryptic. For me, at any rate, it required a constant effort not to stare at him. I felt it from the beginning, and I felt it to the end: a teasing curiosity, a sort of magnetism that drew my eyes in his direction. I was always on my guard to resist it, and that was really the inception of my neglect of him. From I don't know what stupid motive of pride, I was anxious that he shouldn't discern the interest he had excited in me; so I paid less ostensible attention to him than to the others, who excited none at all. I tried to appear unconscious of him as a detached personality, to treat him as merely a part of the group as a whole. Then I improved such occasions as presented themselves to steal glances at him, study him
Annunziata cried out suddenly, with excitement, waving the hand that held her narcissus. "There is my friend Prospero now, coming in the gig." Down the avenue, sure enough, a gig was coming, a sufficiently shabby, ancient gig, drawn, however, at a very decent pace by a very decent-looking horse, and driven by John Blanchemain. "Ciao, Prospero!" called Annunziata, as he passed.
But beauty always had a curious effect on the Irish girl, and when she observed Ruth's really exquisite little face, clear cut as a cameo, with eyes full of expression, and watched the lips ready to break into the gentlest smiles, Kathleen said to herself: "It is all over with me. She is the only decent-looking colleen I have met in this God-forsaken country. Make up to her I will."
While March watched them at a safe distance, a car laden with policemen came down the track, but none of the strikers offered to molest it. In their simple Sunday best, March thought them very quiet, decent-looking people, and he could well believe that they had nothing to do with the riotous outbreaks in other parts of the city.
I can never bear your bucks and dandies, even when they are decent-looking and well dressed; and the Major for that was his rank was the image of a flunkey in good luck. Even to be in agreement with him, or to seem to be so, was more than I could make out to endure. "You could scarce be expected to stomach them," said I civilly, "after having just digested your parole."
"Nothing; only master and missis talk such very bad grammar, and don't pronounce their H's." A Soldier's Wife. The late Duchess of York having desired her housekeeper to seek out for a new laundress, a decent-looking woman was recommended to the situation. "What is that you say, said the duke, who had just entered the room. A soldier's wife! Pray, madam, what is your mistress?
It was hard enough to wander through the ruins and hear of the eviction scenes from others, but to sit by the turf fire and listen to one who had suffered and was suffering from this dreadful act, to see the recollection of it expressed in look and tone was different. This woman husband dead, son in the asylum was a decent-looking body in cloak and cap, with a bleached face and quiet voice.
She smiled her pleasure in the compliment, and her face, was very earnest as she said: "That is because I like your appearance. You are too decent-looking a man to be a robber. You oughtn't to do such things. If you are in bad luck you should go to work. Come, put away that nasty revolver and let us talk it over. The thing for you to do is to work." "Not in this burg," he commented bitterly.
I spoke to two humble decent-looking women who were passing, thinking they might gain the little thing's confidence better than I; but the poor little man's great wish was just to get away from us, though, when he got two yards off, he could but stand and cry. You may be sure he was not left in his trouble, but that he was put safely into his father's hands.
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