Mr. Alfred Burton, although he was blissfully and completely ignorant of the fact, stood atthe door of Fate. He was a little out of breath and his silk hat was reclining at the back of hishead. In his mouth was a large cigar which he felt certain was going to disagree with him, but he smoked it because it had been presented to him a few minutes ago by the clientupon whom he was in attendance. He had rather deep-set blue eyes, which might havebeen attractive but for a certain keenness in their outlook, which was in a sense indicativeof the methods and character of the young man himself; a pale, characterless face, astraggling, sandy moustache, and an earnest, not to say convincing, manner. He wasdressed in such garments as the head-clerk of Messrs. Waddington & Forbes, third-rateauctioneers and house agents, might have been expected to select. He dangled a bunch ofkeys in his hand.
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