He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. Look at the poor victim at your feet. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. Presently, two carriages dashed down the hill, and drew up before it. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful. A species of vertigo seized him. Profligate women are never reclaimed. The cheek-bones were prominent: the nose slightly depressed, with rather wide nostrils; the chin narrow, but well-formed; the forehead broad and lofty; and he possessed such an extraordinary flexibility of muscle in this region, that he could elevate his eyebrows at pleasure up to the very verge of his sleek and shining black hair, which, being closely cropped, to admit of his occasionally wearing a wig, gave a singular bullet-shape to his head. "I wouldn't give a betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed himself in the right.
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