“Under his buckskin riding-coat he wore a black vest and the
cravat and collar of a churchman. A young priest, at his devotions; and a
priest in a thousand, one knew at a glance. His bowed head was not that
of an ordinary man,—it was built for the seat of a fine intelligence.
His brow was open, generous, reflective, his features handsome and
somewhat severe. There was a singular elegance about the hands below the
fringed cuffs of the buckskin jacket. Everything showed him to be a man
of gentle birth—brave, sensitive, courteous. His manners, even when he
was alone in the desert, were distinguished. He had a kind of courtesy
toward himself, toward his beasts, toward the juniper tree before which
he knelt, and the God whom he was addressing.”
-Death Comes for the Archbishop
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