Ярмарок марнославства

The Subject Continued

           

           "WhatCANyouwantwithashepherd’sdog?"thelivelylittleSouthdowncontinued.

           "ImeanaMORALshepherd’sdog,"saidBecky,laughingandlookingupatLordSteyne.

           "Whatthedevil’sthat?"saidhisLordship.

           "Adogtokeepthewolvesoffme,"Rebeccacontinued."Acompanion."

           "Dearlittleinnocentlamb,youwantone,"saidthemarquis;andhisjawthrustout,andhebegantogrinhideously,hislittleeyesleeringtowardsRebecca.

           ThegreatLordofSteynewasstandingbythefiresippingcoffee.ThefirecrackledandblazedpleasantlyTherewasascoreofcandlessparklingroundthemantelpiece,inallsortsofquaintsconces,ofgiltandbronzeandporcelain.TheylightedupRebecca’sfiguretoadmiration,asshesatonasofacoveredwithapatternofgaudyflowers.Shewasinapinkdressthatlookedasfreshasarose;herdazzlingwhitearmsandshoulderswerehalf-coveredwithathinhazyscarfthroughwhichtheysparkled;herhairhungincurlsroundherneck;oneofherlittlefeetpeepedoutfromthefreshcrispfoldsofthesilk:theprettiestlittlefootintheprettiestlittlesandalinthefinestsilkstockingintheworld.

           ThecandleslightedupLordSteyne’sshiningbaldhead,whichwasfringedwithredhair.Hehadthickbushyeyebrows,withlittletwinklingbloodshoteyes,surroundedbyathousandwrinkles.

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