His hair was thin, and he parted it with great
exactness in the middle. His eyes were brown, large, and of exceeding
softness. His nose was straight in spite of many a contusion, and his
whole expression was that of a high-bred gentleman somewhat the worse
for wear. Sir Tom was perfectly groomed when he came forth from his
chamber, which was usually about ten in the morning.
Those of us who had access to his rooms often wondered how he ever got
out of them looking so immaculate, for they were a perfectly impassable
jungle to the stranger. Such a tangle of trunks, hand-bags, rug bundles,
clothes, boots, pajamas, newspapers, scrap-books, B. & S. bottles, could
hardly be found anywhere else in the world. He had a fondness for
newspaper clippings, and had trunks of them, sorted into bundles or
pasted in scrap-books. Old volumes of Bell's _Life_ filled more than one
trunk, and on one occasion when he and I were spending a long evening
together, in celebration of his recent recovery from an attack of gout,
and when he had done more than usual justice to the B.
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