by Jacob Swainswick » Sun Mar 05, 2017 4:56 pm
"Of course, sir." Swainswick cast an appraising eye at the good Doctor's apparel. "A sober choice, quite a classical line. Very suitable for one of your profession, if you don't mind me saying s-"
At the sound of a distaff footfall, the tailor's eyebrows shot up; his alarm was swiftly masked, however, as it sufficed for him to raise his voice slightly to warn the on-comer of his déshabillé client.
"Let me help you into your jacket, Doctor, we can't have you standing around in your shirt-sleeves. You'll catch your death -" he met the other's eye at this - "well, you take my meaning.
"And properly attired, we can discuss a choice of material - hullo! Why, I believe that's Miss Daye! What exquisite timing! Please, Miss Daye, do come in. I hope you will forgive the chaos -" (the workshop, of course, was trim, neat and perfectly tidy) "but we have reached a juncture at which a third opinion would be most welcome."
"...[A] young man, tall, and of elegant proportion, dark locks combed neatly into place atop a high forehead. Deep blue eyes are set in an intelligent face ...; his physiognomy on the whole speaking of studious attentiveness."