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CHAPTER I.
WHEREIN WE SEE THE FACE OF HIM OF WHOM WE HAVE HITHERTO SEEN
ONLY THE ACTS.
Nature had been prodigal of her kindness to Gwynplaine. She had bestowed
on him a mouth opening to his ears, ears folding over to his eyes, a
shapeless nose to support the spectacles of the grimace maker, and a
face that no one could look upon without laughing.
We have just said that nature had loaded Gwynplaine with her gifts. But
was it nature? Had she not been assisted?
Two slits for eyes, a hiatus for a mouth, a snub protuberance with two
holes for nostrils, a flattened face, all having for the result an
appearance of laughter; it is certain that nature never produces such
perfection single-handed.
But is laughter a synonym of joy?
If, in the presence of this mountebank--for he was one--the first
impression of gaiety wore off, and the man were observed with attention,
traces of art were to be recognized. Such a face could never have been
created by chance; it must have resulted from intention. Such perfect
completeness is not in nature. Man can do nothing to create beauty, but
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