[The Refugees by Arthur Conan Doyle]@TWC D-Link book
The Refugees

CHAPTER XII
2/18

Many there were who would have loved to carry her the tidings; but the king's changes had been frequent of late, and who would dare to make a mortal enemy of one who might, ere many weeks were past, have the lives and fortunes of the whole court in the hollow of her hand?
Louis, in his innate selfishness, had been so accustomed to regard every event entirely from the side of how it would affect himself, that it had never struck him that his long-suffering family, who had always yielded to him the absolute obedience which he claimed as his right, would venture to offer any opposition to his new resolution.

He was surprised, therefore, when his brother demanded a private interview that afternoon, and entered his presence without the complaisant smile and humble air with which he was wont to appear before him.
Monsieur was a curious travesty of his elder brother.

He was shorter, but he wore enormously high boot-heels, which brought him to a fair stature.

In figure he had none of that grace which marked the king, nor had he the elegant hand and foot which had been the delight of sculptors.

He was fat, waddled somewhat in his walk, and wore an enormous black wig, which rolled down in rows and rows of curls over his shoulders.


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