Several times when I glanced at him, I observed that appearance with a sort of awe, and wondered what he was thinking about so closely.

His hair and whiskers were blacker and thicker, looked at so near, than even I had given them credit for being.
A squareness about the lower part of his face, and the dotted indication of the strong black beard he shaved close every day, reminded me of the wax-work that had travelled into our neighbourhood some half-a-year before.

This, his regular eyebrows, and the rich white, and black, and brown, of his complexion--confound his complexion, and his memory!--made me think him, in spite of my misgivings, a very handsome man.

I have no doubt that my poor dear mother thought him so too.
We went to an hotel by the sea, where two gentlemen were smoking cigars in a room by themselves.

Each of them was lying on at least four chairs, and had a large rough jacket on.