A few days later, when the horror of my new appearance was indeed a
little mitigated by the falling off of the withered outer skin which
had covered the right side of my face, I tried the effect of my
striking physiognomy on Edgar.
Whether he had expected some such surprise, or whether he was endowed
with a splendid insensibility to ugliness, he stood the shock with
the most stolid placidity.
'Well?' said I defiantly, looking at him from out my ill-matched eyes
in a passion of aggressive rage.
'Well?' said he, as complacently as if I had been a turnip.
'I hope you admire this style of beauty,' I hurled out savagely.
'I don't go quite so far as that, but it's really much better than I
expected.'
'You are easily pleased.'
He went on quietly. 'The chief impression your countenance gives one
now is not, as you flatter yourself, of consummate ugliness,
but--forgive me--of consummate villainy.'
'What!'
'You are preserved for ever from the danger of being anything but
strictly virtuous and straightforward in your dealings, for no one
would trust the possessor of that countenance with either a secret or
a sovereign.'
This blunt frankness acted better than any softer measures could have
done; it made me laugh. Looking again at myself in a glass, for I was
now up and dressed, I noticed, what had escaped me before in my
paralysed contemplation of the change in my own features, that the
drawing up of the right-hand corners of my mouth and eye, together
with the removal of every vestige of hair from that side of the face,
had given me the grotesquely repulsive leer of a satyr. To crown my
disadvantages, the left side of my face, seen in profile, still
retained its natural appearance to mock my new hideousness.
'But I think I see a way out of all difficulties,' Edgar went on, more
seriously. 'You will advance objections, I know, but you must permit
your objections to be overruled. Accident can be combated by artifice,
and to artifice you must resort until nature does her work and
relieves you from the new necessity.'
We fought out the question, and at last I very unwillingly gave way,
and submitted to the adoption of a false eyebrow, a false moustache,
and a beautiful tuft of curly false hair much superior to my own, to
hide the bald patch left by the accident.
Rather elated by this distinct improvement, assumed for the reception
of Helen's promised visit, and encouraged by assurances that my own
hair would soon grow again and enable me to discard its substitutes, I
was ready to believe that the discoloration and disfigurement still
visible were comparatively unimportant, and that the repellent
expression, which no artifice much abated, might indeed affect
strangers, but would not, in the sight of my friends, obscure their
long-established impression of my amiability and sweetness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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