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Updated: May 28, 2025
Greville, the Clerk of the Privy Council, was present; his turn soon came; the middle-aged, hard-faced viveur was addressed by his young hostess. "Have you been riding to-day, Mr. Greville?" asked the Queen. "No, Madam, I have not," replied Mr. Greville. "It was a fine day," continued the Queen. "Yes, Madam, a very fine day," said Mr. Greville. "It was rather cold, though," said the Queen.
Hallman was in his early forties, with twenty years of South-Seas trading, a tall, strong, well-featured, but hard-faced, European, with thin lips over nearly perfect teeth, and cold, small, pale-blue eyes. He talked little to men, but isolated young women whenever possible, and bent over them in attempted gay, but earnest, converse.
Up two steps stumbled the physician, cursing the house for a place where a gentleman was so much more likely to break his neck than his fast, and found old Gamble in his velvet cap and dressing-gown, in conference with a hard-faced, pale, and pock-marked elderly man, squinting unpleasantly under a black wig, who was narrating something slowly, and with effort, like a man whose memory is labouring to give up its dead, while the attorney, with his spectacles on his nose, was making notes.
I shall live to see him hanged yet. All this time he was riding across the straw of our courtyard, getting his weary legs out of the leathers, and almost afraid to stand yet. A coarse-grained, hard-faced man he was, some forty years of age or so, and of middle height and stature.
'I'm glad you're so fond of flowers, Mrs. . Oh, you haven't told us your name yet, Edie said, beginning vaguely to suspect that perhaps the hard-faced landlady wasn't quite as bad as she looked to a casual observer. 'Alliss, mum, the landlady answered, filling up Edie's interrogatory blank. 'My name is 'Alliss. 'Alice what? Edie asked again.
More oblivion, and when I next came to I knew that they had both been carried away from me and buried Hop Lee, and his wife beside him, and that that chapter in my life was, for ever and ever, closed. Now I was in charge of a hospital nurse. A horrible creature she was, lean and hard-faced, with a straight slit across her face for mouth, and little grey, cruel eyes.
Some pretty hard-faced trickery was attempted in the way of legislation, in order to help along the claim of the public; for, if the truth must be said, the public is just as wont to resort to such unworthy means to effect its purposes as private individuals, when it is deemed necessary.
The bewilderment in his face told me that I had scored heavily. But he quickly rallied. "Do I get you right?" he queried. "Does he write those hymns for other folks to sign?" "He does." "What does he do that for?" "Money. He gets as high as five dollars per stanza." "Some salesman!" My hard-faced companion regarded the lank figure overhanging the fence with new respect.
A tall, hard-faced woman of forty or thereabouts stood in the door, and looked at me coldly through spectacles that hooked behind ears the natural prominence of which was enhanced by her grayish hair being drawn up tightly and rolled into a "bun" on the very top of the head.
But I wouldn't care for a man who didn't think more of me than he did of a lot of old clodhoppers." The girl looked at the hard-faced youth a moment in silence, and turned without a word and left the room.
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