.. but not an unhearty one, rather a grip of easy welcome.
A kind, rubicund, moon-round face, full of large blue eyes smiling a
gentle and kindly welcome ... if the face of Shelley's father, plump and
methodic-oracular, could have been joined to the wild, shining ecstasy
of Shelley's countenance itself--you would have had Mackworth's face
before its time. I never beheld such spirituality in a fat man. His
stoutness was not unpleasing.
"My boy ... come in ... my God, you're all wet ... you look frail, too."
A pity shone in his eyes. "Minnie, call up Ally Merton ..." turning to
me, "I have, as you can see, no clothes to fit you ... but Ally might
have ... he's about your size, but he carries a trifle more meat on his
bones....
"Come in and dry yourself before the fire till he gets over."
We sat before the gas-fire of artificial logs.
"Minnie, will you make a cup of tea for this--poor boy," and he lowered
his voice at the last two words, realising that I was hearing, too.
"Yes, Jarv!"
* * * * *
I sat at the table in the dining room. Jarvis Alexander Mackworth sat on
the piano-stool, again playing the piano in rhythm rather than in
accompaniment with the records ... it was Caruso now....
"A glorious voice, isn't it, young man?" Mackworth asked, as I ate
voraciously of the cold roast set before me .
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