Rate the avatar of the person above you: part two

[Shell B]

Still a 10/10 for Lovecraft.

Let's not forget Dickens' best novel.

My shirt and trousers, stained with heat, dew, grass, and the Kentish soil on which I had slept--and torn besides--might have frightened the birds from my aunt's garden, as I stood at the gate. My hair had known no comb or brush since I left London. My face, neck, and hands, from unaccustomed exposure to the air and sun, were burnt to a berry-brown. From head to foot I was powdered almost as white with chalk and dust, as if I had come out of a limekiln. In this plight, and with a strong consciousness of it, I waited to introduce myself to, and make my first impression on, my formidable aunt.