Z was the eldest of the three, and in some respects the most remarkable in
appearance. He was well proportioned, except that his head seemed large
for his body. His face was perfectly colorless, and his thin hair was
white and long and disorderly. A fringe of snowy beard encircled his
throat like a scarf, but his lips and cheeks were clean-shaved. The dead
waxen whiteness of his face was thrown into startling relief by his great
black eyes, in which there was a depth and a fire when he was roused that
contrasted strongly with his aged appearance. His dress was simple in the
extreme, and of the darkest colors.
The three sat in their easy-chairs round the coal fire. It was high noon
in London, and the weather was moderately fine; that is to say, it was
possible to read in the room without lighting the gas. X held a telegram
in his hand.
"This is a perfectly clear case against us," he remarked in a quiet,
business-like manner.
"It has occurred at such an unfortunate time," said Y, who spoke very
slowly and distinctly, with an English accent.
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