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Although Doro generally seemed full of good-humor, and readiness to
please and to be pleased, he could look very cruel. And when, in rare
moments, he did so, his face seemed almost to change its shape: the
cheek-bones to become more salient, the nose sharper, the eyes
catlike, the large but well-shaped mouth venomous instead of
passionate. He looked older and also commoner directly his insouciance
departed from him, and one could divine a great deal of primitive
savagery beneath his lively grace and boyish charm.
But to-night, directly he spoke to Artois, his natural humor seemed to
return. He explained his illness, which accounted for his not having
come as usual to see his friend, and drew a humorous picture of a
Panacci in a bed surrounded by terror-stricken nurses.
"And you, Emilio, what have you been doing?" he concluded.
"Working," said Artois.
He pointed to the writing-table, on which lay a pile of manuscript.
The Marchesino glanced at it carelessly, but the two vertical lines
suddenly appeared in his forehead just above the inside corners of his
eyes.


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