quare chin. Possibly his
cheek-bones were too prominent. But what of that? Women always looked
at a man's figure, his eyes, his teeth, his mustaches. And he had a
splendid figure, enormous gray eyes, large and perfectly even white
teeth between lips that were very full and very red, and blond mustaches
whose turned-up points were like a cry of victory.

He drew himself up from the hips, enlarged his eyes by opening them
exaggeratedly, stretched his lips till his teeth were well exposed, and
vehemently twisted the ends of his mustaches.

Yes, he was a very handsome fellow, and boyish-looking, too--but not too
boyish.

It really was absurd of Emilio to think of cutting him out with a
girl--Emilio, an old man, all beard and brains! As if any living woman
really cared for brains! Impertinence, gayety, agility, muscle--that was
what women loved in men. And he had all they wanted.

He filled his case with cigarettes, slipped on a very smart fawn-colored
coat, cocked a small-brimmed black bowler hat over his left ear, picked
up a pair of white gloves and a cane surmounted by a bunch of golden
grapes, and hurried down-stairs, humming "Lili Kangy," the "canzonetta
birichina" that was then the rage in Naples.

The dinner was to be at the Hotel des Etrangers. On consideration,
Artois had decided against the Galleria. He had thought of those who
wander there, of Peppina's aunt, of certain others. And then he had
thought of Vere. And his decision was quickly taken. When the Marchesino
arrived, Artois was alone in his sitting-room. The two men looked into
each other's eyes as they met, and Artois saw at once that Doro was in
a state of suppressed excitement and not in a gentle mood. Although Doro
generally seemed full of good-humor, and readiness to please and to be
pleased, he could look very cruel. And when, in rare moments, he did so,
his face seemed almost to change its shape: the cheek-bones to become
more salient, the nose sharper, the eyes catlike, the large but
well-shaped mouth venomous instead of passionate. He looked older and
also commoner directly his insouciance departed from him, and one could
divine a great deal of primitive savagery beneath his lively grace and
boyish charm.

But to-night, directly he spoke to Artois, his natural humor seemed to
return. He explained his illness, which accounted for his not having
come as usual to see his friend, and drew a humorous picture of a
Panacci in a bed surrounded by t