He was not only a very handsome old gentleman--upright and stalwart as he had been described to us--with a massive grey head, a fine composure of face when silent, a figure that might have become corpulent but for his being so continually in earnest that he gave it no rest, and a chin that might have subsided into a double chin but for the vehement emphasis in which it was constantly required to assist; but he was such a true gentleman in his manner, so chivalrously polite, his face was lighted by a smile of so much sweetness and tenderness, and it seemed so plain that he had nothing to hide, but showed himself exactly as he was--incapable, as Richard said, of anything on a limited scale, and firing away with those blank great guns because he carried no small arms whatever--that really I could not help looking at him with equal pleasure as he sat at dinner, whether he smilingly conversed with Ada and me, or was led by Mr. Jarndyce into some great volley of superlatives, or threw up his head like a bloodhound and gave out that tremendous "Ha, ha, ha!"

, we saw not only a very handsome old gentleman - upright and stalwart, with a massive grey head - but such a true gentleman in his manner, so chivalrously polite, with such a sweet smile, that I could not help looking at him with pleasure as he sat at dinner, giving out that tremendous "Ha, ha, ha!"
