Sealed Lips — page 182: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

174 SEALED LIPS. cated as a prince. One can see at a glance that he is a gentleman, they say that before he became a monk he held a position in society.” “Indeed!” replied Patrice. “In that case I will vo to him. I shall not be sorry to talk an hour be- fore going-to bed.” “When monsieur wishes to talk,” said Coralie, a trifle wounded, “I am always at his service.” O’Farrell found the monk in the court, standing beside his horse, from which he had just dis- mounted, talking familiarly in Arab with a number of workmen and servants who had passed the night in the inclosure. He was a tall, athletic old man, whose attitude and slightest movements confirmed at first sight Coralie’s suppositions. His superb head and distin- guished features, his energetic and easy speech de- noted a superior man. A red ribbon, faded by the sun and rain, was concealed in the button-hole of his black robe behind the copper crucifix which hung on his neck. Patrice was instantly struck by the piercing and also gentle look that darted from his singularly beautiful eyes. He could not keep from looking at him, and asked himself at once: “Where have I seen those eyes?” Many times, for several years after, did he ask himself that same question, only then he could say that he had found out whose resembled them. “Reverend Father,” said the young man, “you EGOmichboo KS Geom