His cheekbones were extremely prominent, and his cheeks so thin, that they seemed happier than Pyramus and Thisbe, and kissed each other inside without any separation or division.

His face was as sharp and almost as long as an inverted pyramid, and was garnished on either side by a miserable half starved whisker, which seemed scarcely able to maintain itself, amid the general symptoms of atrophy and decay.

This charming countenance was supported by a figure so long, so straight, so shadowy, that you might have taken it for the monument in a consumption.
But the chief characteristic of the man was the utter and wonderful gravity I have before spoken of.

You could no more have coaxed a smile out of his countenance, than you could out of the poker, and yet Monsieur Margot was by no means a melancholy man.

He loved his joke, and his wine, and his dinner, just as much as if he had been of a fatter frame; and it was a fine specimen of the practical antithesis, to hear a good story, or a jovial expression, leap friskily out of that long, curved mouth; it was at once a paradox and a bathos--it was the mouse coming out of its hole in Ely Cathedral.
I said that this gravity was M.Margot's most especial characteristic.
I forgot:--he had two others equally remarkable; the one was an ardent admiration for the chivalrous, the other an ardent admiration for himself.