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"... My meal being finished she offered me an excellent cigarette.... Glancing up through a ring of smoke my eyes fell upon a rough black-and-white sketch of a tall, smooth-faced, keen-eyed man with rather large ears, firm and thin-cut lips, high forehead and steadfast gaze, dressed in the uniform of a General Officer, with a single decoration on his left breast.... she observed me closely as I gazed.... I KNEW this man and was about to exclaim: 'The savior of this country!... but something restrained my enthusiasm.... 'You recognize him, I see, she insinuated.... 'WHO is he? I dodged.... She merely smiled.... She evidently realizes the wonderful power of that disarming smile and the fascination of good teeth in a shapely head.... 'You'll do! she said with apparent reservation as she tapped a tiny bell....
Pete considered young Stan through half-closed lids a tanned, smooth-faced, laughing, curly-headed, broad-shouldered young giant. "You got any enemies, pardner?" "Not one in the world that I know of," declared Stan cheerfully. "Back in New York, maybe?" "Not a one. No reason to have one." Pete shook his head reflectively. "You're dreadful dumb, you know. Think again. Think hard.
Crewe entered, the hall boy closed the door, and he found himself face to face with a comfortable, smooth-faced man seated with great placidity on a rocking-chair in the centre of the room, between the bed and the marble-topped table: a man to whom, evidently, a rich abundance of thought was sufficient company, for he had neither newspaper nor book.
But Jack climbed up out of the water, seated himself on the keel between the strange pair, and stared hard at them, each in turn. The older man appeared to be about fifty years of age. He wore a closely-cropped beard that had in it a sprinkling of gray. The younger man, who appeared to be about twenty-five years of age, was smooth-faced and sulky-looking.
General Breckenridge was told that only the cadets from the Virginia Military Institute could do the trick: the smooth-faced boys with their young ardor and their letter-perfect training of the parade grounds. Appalled at the thought of this sacrifice of children, the Commander was said to have exclaimed with tears in his eyes, "Let them go then and may God forgive me!" And they had gone!
Add to these "the dangerous classes," the natural enemies of all governments parricides, adulterers, thieves, forgers, escaped slaves, brigands, and pirates who had lost their occupation; and, finally, Catiline's own chosen comrades, the smooth-faced patrician youths with curled hair and redolent with perfumes, as yet beardless or with the first down upon their chins, wearing scarves and veils and sleeved tunics reaching to their ankles, industrious but only with the dice-box, night-watchers but in the supper- rooms, in the small hours before dawn, immodest, dissolute boys, whose education had been in learning to love and to be loved, to sing and to dance naked at the midnight orgies, and along with it to handle poniards and mix poisoned bowls.
It must have been a very great change to you if you're used to this sort of thing." "Who said I was not going back?" asked Olive sharply. "Your uncle," said Miss Port. "He told me at our house. Of course, he didn't go into no particulars, but that isn't to be expected, he's not the kind of man to do that." Olive stood and looked at this smooth-faced, flat-mouthed spinster.
Some commonplaces passed between them, and then silence fell on each. The conductor coming through the car, the smooth-faced young fellow put up a card to be punched, and the student handed up a ticket, simply saying, "Kesota." After a decent pause the younger man said, "Going to Kesota, are you?" "Yes." "So am I. I live there, in fact." "Do you?
But Cleomenes added his word, that only harm would come from resistance; and the two Roman ladies accompanied the escort back to the palace. It was not pleasant to pass into the power of a creature like Pothinus, even though the smooth-faced eunuch received his unwilling guests with Oriental salaams and profuse requests to be allowed to humour their least desires.
And the old Senator in his white cloak with its broad purple hem, his smooth-faced clients at his elbows, his silent slaves before him and behind, meets the low-chattering knot of Hebrew money-lenders, making the price of short loans for the day, and discussing the assets of a famous spendthrift, as their yellow-turbaned, bearded fathers had talked over the chances of Julius Cæsar when he was as yet but a fashionable young lawyer of doubtful fortune, with an unlimited gift of persuasion and an equally unbounded talent for amusement.
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