That pallid, weak face had no color. The youthful appearance, barely seventeen or eighteen, possessed a beauty entirely different from Professor Moriarty's.,He was clad in pure white fleece pajamas, looking as if he had just stepped out of the bath. His silken blond hair caught the warm glow of the hearth fire. He sat quietly and intently reading by the fire, his delicate features holding a gentle expression… reminding her of a poet, with the flames rising in their home fireplace.,Compared to that frail visage, his voice was more energetic and polite: "Nice to meet you."。