noon
This tutor was very old and bent , and as sad of face as a rainy November day . He is dead now , the poor old fellow -- sweet peace to his soul ! He was exactly like that `` Mr. Ratin '' hit off in caricature so neatly by Topffer ; he had all the marks , even to the wart with the three hairs , and fine wrinkles beyond number at the end of his old nose ; to me his face was the personification of all that was hideous and disgusting . He arrived every day precisely at noon ; and a chill would pass through me when I heard his knock which I would have recognized among a thousand . Always after his departure , I attempted to purify that part of my table where his elbow had rested by rubbing it hard with the napkin which I had taken clandestinely from the linen-closet . And the repulsion extended itself to the very books , already unattractive enough to me , which he touched ; I even tore certain leaves out of them because I suspected that he had handled them a great deal . My books were always full of ink blots , always stained and covered with smeared sketches and pictures , which one draws idly when his attention wanders from his task .