He noted the unusual proceeding with a tolerant shrug.

It will be remembered that he closed his glasses with a smile--not a smile of amusement or of contempt--not even a deep smile such as people wear in books.

It was merely a smile, and could not be construed into anything else by any physiognomist.

The wrinkles that made it were deeply marked, which suggested that Evasio Mon had learnt to smile when he was quite young.

He had, perhaps, been taught.
And, after all, a man may as well show a smile to the world as a worried look, or a mean look, or one of the countless casts of countenance that are moulded by conceit and vanity.