He let out at me once with a 'Do you want to kill me?' he
was so very angry."
Jonathan left the old schoolmaster in the vestibule, signing to him to
come no further, and soon returned with a favorable answer. He led the
old gentleman through one magnificent room after another, where every
door stood open. At last Porriquet beheld his pupil at some distance
seated beside the fire.
Raphael was reading the paper. He sat in an armchair wrapped in a
dressing-gown with some large pattern on it. The intense melancholy
that preyed upon him could be discerned in his languid posture and
feeble frame; it was depicted on his brow and white face; he looked
like some plant bleached by darkness. There was a kind of effeminate
grace about him; the fancies peculiar to wealthy invalids were also
noticeable. His hands were soft and white, like a pretty woman's; he
wore his fair hair, now grown scanty, curled about his temples with a
refinement of vanity.
The Greek cap that he wore was pulled to one side by the weight of its
tassel; too heavy for the light material of which it was made. He had
let the paper-knife fall at his feet, a malachite blade with gold
mounting, which he had used to cut the leaves of the book.
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