“About that eye of his.”
“I only know that it’s precious ugly, and used to make me very uncomfortable, because I always felt as if I must look at it instead of at the other or at both at once.”
“But don’t you know what they say?”
“Who do you mean by ‘they’?”
“Well, on; everybody. That he had the point of a sword jabbed into it once when he was fencing.”
“Oh, I never heard that,” cried Denis. “Then that accounts for its queer fixed look.”
“Queer fixed look? It’s horrible! I don’t think that I am quite a coward; but old Leoni, when he fixes me with that eye of his, quite gives me the creeps.”
“Well, he does look queer sometimes. But I say, this is refreshing after that hot room,” said Denis. “There’s a great garden yonder, and open fields. I should like to have a wander there for an hour or two.”
“So should I,” said Saint Simon; “but we must get back, in case his lordship wakes.”
“Yes. It won’t do for us to forget ourselves. Esquires ought never to want to sleep,” said Denis; and then quickly, “nor grooms nor hostlers neither. Here, look at these two red-faced pigs.”