The lower protrudes. The gentleman is the least in life
underhung. Consider his chin. It has the jut of the Hapsburgs', of Charles
the Fifth's, not pronounced by any means, but undoubtedly there. Firmness,
or perhaps obstinacy, hard judgment, an uneven temper, a leaning to
autocracy, I read in this portrait. There is no signature, nothing to tell
you who he is. Certainly, no Percival.
I call your attention to one more photograph, in marked distinction to
others of your notice. Those were, in every sense, full--dress affairs;
this one, in all senses, undress. It is the work of an amateur, you can
see at once--small, rather blurred to begin with, not perfectly focussed,
and fading now towards the end of all such gear. It represents a
bareheaded young lady in a white gown pinned very high. She is standing in
a pond, with the water well over her knees. One hand keeps her balance
with a pole, the other grasps a streamer of water-weed. Floating beyond
her upon some kind of raft is a man, bareheaded also, in a white sweater
with a rolling collar. His face is shadowed--you can see that his hair,
black and straight, falls over his eyes. He is raking up the weed with his
hand, his arm bare to the shoulder.
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