Yale University had never had a guest lecturer quite like the count. He was an egg-bald old (69) gentleman who dressed in Army-style suntans, refused to wear a coat or tie, and spent most of his time in a chromium wheelchair (he was badly wounded in World War I). At times, he would bellow at his audience ("Can you hear me in the rear echelon?"), then let his voice trail to a mumble.
He wore a childlike smile when something pleased him, a chilling sneer when something did not. Sometimes he gesticulated wildly, once seemed...
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