"Who's with you?" demanded Phil; but Fee didn't answer him: he just went
forward and took the place that one of the fellows made between himself
and Phil. And then Chad began introducing Felix to the others.
From where I sat on the hat-rack settle,--it was the most shielded place
in the hall, and near the door,--I had a full view of the people sitting
on one side of the table, and particularly of Felix and Phil, who were
almost directly under the glare of the light. Fee's face was as white as
marble, except a red spot on each cheek, and there was a delicate look
about his eyes and temples, and round his mouth, that I hadn't noticed
before. Somehow his fine, regular features and splendid, broad white
forehead made me think of the head of the Young Augustus that the
Unsworths have.
But Phil certainly didn't look like any marble statue; his face was very
red and cross, and he was scowling until his eyebrows made a thick black
line above his eyes. He was disagreeable, too,--rough and quarrelsome,
something like that night when he came home so late, and hurt my
feelings. When, in reply to an invitation from Chad, Felix said he would
join the game, Phil sung out in a kind of ordering tone, "What's the
sense of spoiling the fun for everybody? You know nothing about cards;
why don't you look on?"
"Because I prefer playing," answered Fee, smiling; "it's the quickest
and surest way of learning, I believe,"--with a glance round the
company.
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