The gentleman in question clicked his heels together in quite a foreign fashion, and bowed low. Mallow noticed the continental air of the whole action, and remembered it.
"He is tall, slender, elegant in shape, of a swart complexion, inherited from his mother, and his eyes and moustache are of the deepest black. He looks like an Italian."
"By George, Carson! Mrs. Purcell describes you exactly," said the Major; and in his heart Mallow, who had followed the description closely, was obliged to confess that this was true.
"He is delicate in health, and has a weak heart."
"I know that to my cost," sighed Carson, "and a swollen hand. Does Mrs. Purcell mention that fact, yes?"
"She does, Mr. Carson, and she also says that you are effeminate."
"Ha, ha!" bellowed Drabble--"effeminate, eh?"
Carson reddened. "And why, Miss Slarge?"
"Because you wear a bracelet."
"That is true enough," assented the young man; "but I can't get it off, and it has been on my wrist all my life--in fact, ever since it was placed there by my ayah."