Pateroff accepted the invitation, and Harry, never having done such a thing before, ordered his dinner with much nervousness.
The count was punctual, and the two men introduced themselves.

Harry had expected to see a handsome foreigner, with black hair, polished whiskers, and probably a hook nose--forty years of age or thereabouts, but so got up as to look not much more than thirty.

But his guest was by no means a man of that stamp.

Excepting that the count's age was altogether uncertain, no correctness of guess on that matter being possible by means of his appearance, Harry's preconceived notion was wrong in every point.

He was a fair man, with a broad fair face, and very light blue eyes; his forehead was low, but broad; he wore no whiskers, but bore on his lip a heavy moustache which was not gray, but perfectly white--white it was with years, of course, but yet it gave no sign of age to his face.