Chapter 1—Enter Mr. Sharp
“Really these English newspapers are very well written,” the worthy doctor said to himself, as he leant back in a great leathern easy-chair.
All his life Dr. Sarrasin had been given to soliloquizing, one of the many results of his absence of mind.
He was a man of fifty, or thereabouts; his features were refined; clear lively eyes shone through his steel spectacles, and the expression of his countenance, although grave, was genial. He was one of those people: of whom one says at first sight, “That’s an honest man!”
Notwithstanding the early hour, and his rather casual attire, the doctor had already shaved and put on a white tie.
Scattered near him on the carpet and on a number of chairs, in the sitting-room of his Brighton hotel, lay copies of the Times, the D
