'Ah! By my word! There is something singular about you,' said he: 'you
have the air of a little nonnette; quaint, quiet, grave, and simple, as
you sit with your hands before you, and your eyes generally bent on the
carpet (except, by the bye, when they are directed piercingly to my
face; as just now, for instance); and when one asks you a question, or
makes a remark to which you are obliged to reply, you rap out a round
rejoinder, which, if not blunt, is at least brusque. What do you mean by it?'
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