“It can’t make any difference to you, and there are not half a dozen people in Paris who could tell us apart. “Why did you lie to that man?” he asked fiercely. ” “I was turned shortly after the Pestilence, the plague that they call the Black Death. As far as I recollect, there were two. There was a short, red-faced, resolute youth who inherited an authoritative attitude upon bacteriology from his father; a Japanese student of unassuming manners who drew beautifully and had an imperfect knowledge of English; and a dark, unwashed Scotchman with complicated spectacles, who would come every morning as a sort of volunteer supplementary demonstrator, look very closely at her work and her, tell her that her dissections were “fairish,” or “very fairish indeed,” or “high above the normal female standard,” hover as if for some outbreak of passionate gratitude and with admiring retrospects that made the facetted spectacles gleam like diamonds, return to his own place. His high brow was what caused all the ladies in town to covet him, it radiated intelligence but also something more primal. It might as well be Melusine herself.
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