I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. This astute personage was somewhat under the middle size, but fairly proportioned, inclining rather to strength than symmetry, and abounding more in muscle than in flesh. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. "The natives have foolish ways of saying things. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. Come along, master. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. Apparently I’m not to exist yet. They talked lightly but confidentially until Sir John approached them with a slight frown upon his face.
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