Nighthawks Hopper

Nighthawks Hopper
Nude on the Beach
One Moment in Time
sort of awe, and wondered what he was thinking about so closely. His hair and whiskers were blacker and thicker, looked at so near, than even I had given them credit for being. A squareness about the lower part of his face, and the dotted indication of the strong black beard he shaved close every day, reminded me of the wax-work that had travelled into our neighbourhood some half-a-year before. This, his regular eyebrows, and the rich white, and black, and brown, of his complexion - confound his complexion, and his memory! - made me think him, in spite of my misgivings, a very handsome man. I have no doubt that my poor dear mother thought him so too. ¡¡¡¡We went to an hotel by the sea, where two gentlemen were smoking cigars in a room by themselves. Each of them was lying on at least four chairs, and had a large rough jacket on. In a corner was a heap of coats and boat-cloaks, and a flag, all bundled up together. ¡¡¡¡They both rolled on to their feet in an untidy sort of manner, when we came in, and said, 'Halloa, Murdstone! We thought you were dead!' ¡¡¡¡'Not yet,' said Mr. Murdstone. ¡¡¡¡'And who's this shaver?' said one of the gentlemen, taking hold of me. ¡¡¡¡'That's Davy,' returned Mr. Murdstone. ¡¡¡¡'Davy who?' said the gentleman. 'Jones?' ¡¡¡¡'Copperfield,' said Mr. Murdstone. ¡¡¡¡'What! Bewitching Mrs. Copperfield's encumbrance?' cried the gentleman. 'The pretty little widow?' ¡¡¡¡'Quinion,' said Mr. Murdstone, 'take care, if you please. Somebody's sharp.'