And yet the moment I am safely out of the way you are content to dress yourself in my rags, to go and get yourself popular and admired and successful, all on my reputation. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. Their small talk continued. There she sought and at last found 107A, one of those heterogeneous piles of offices which occupy the eastern side of the lane. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl.
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