“I think,” he said, “I was a little too mystical about beauty the other day. “You will go and see her,” he begged. ‘It is of no use to try to stop me. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. ‘Of course the fellow has doubtless stayed put to wait for you,’ retorted Hilary. There was all the knavery, and more than all the drollery of a Spanish picaroon in the laughing eyes of the English apprentice; and, with a little more warmth and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the resemblance between them would have been complete.
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