His thinking was a dusk of doubt and self-mistrust, lit up at moments by the lightnings of intuition, but lightnings of so clear a splendour that in those moments the world perished about his feet as if it had been fire-consumed; and thereafter his tongue grew heavy and he met the eyes of others with unanswering eyes, for he felt that the spirit of beauty had folded him round like a mantle and that in revery at least he had been acquainted with nobility. --Really, Simon, you should not speak that way before Stephen. --With guns and cattle, added Stephen, pointing to the titlepage of Cranly's book on which was printed DISEASES OF THE OX. The child leaned her ringletted head against her mother's sleeve, gazing on the picture, and murmured as if fascinated: --The beautiful Mabel Hunter! As if fascinated, her eyes rested long upon those demurely taunting eyes and she murmured devotedly: --Isn't she an exquisite creature? And the boy who came in from the street, stamping crookedly under his stone of coal, heard her words.
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