Explore "A Rogue's Tragedy" by Bernard Capes on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The Prefect of Faissigny, commanded, for the second time within a week, and with a flattering grace of intimacy, into the King's presence, discovered an exquisite butterfly where he had left a chrysalis. The royal head -- erst as round and blue as a Turk's -- was adorned with a bob-wig in buckle, from whose toupee a couple of pearl pins stuck out like clubbed antenne; the royal limbs and body were glossy with embroidered silks; on the royal coat of maroon-coloured velvet sparkled a diamond star. Twin satellites of this sun, moreover, twinkled, like new-discovered planets, in the royal ears -- a sincerest flattery, which his Majesty did not grudge to pay to so unique a pink of the elegances as M. Trix.
As he advanced to greet his visitor, he held a wisp of point d'Alencon a little raised between the finger and thumb of his right hand, while his left poised a gleaming snuff-box at a like angle. His manner was as charmingly playful as his "style" was unexceptionable. As a monarch he had no rival to challenge his pre-eminence in the Kingdom of puffs and patches.