The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it.
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