Village books

They looked idly at the various shows, resisting the melodramas, the
circuses, the exhibitions of eccentricity, which loudly clamoured for
their custom. Presently they came to a man who was cutting silhouettes in
black paper, and Haddo insisted on posing for him. A little crowd
collected and did not spare their jokes at his singular appearance. He
threw himself into his favourite attitude of proud command. Margaret
wished to take the opportunity of leaving him, but Miss Boyd insisted on
staying.
'He's the most ridiculous creature I've ever seen in my life,' she
whispered. 'I wouldn't let him out of my sight for worlds.'
When the silhouette was done, he presented it with a low bow to Margaret.
'I implore your acceptance of the only portrait now in existence of
Oliver Haddo,' he said.
'Thank you,' she answered frigidly.
She was unwilling to take it, but had not the presence of mind to put
him off by a jest, and would not be frankly rude. As though certain she
set much store on it, he placed it carefully in an envelope.


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