Grose's face signified that it had been indeed, but she said at the same time: "Poor woman--she paid for it!" "Then you do know what she died of?" I asked. --Well, I hope he'll be as good a man as his father. I had perpetually to guard against the wonder of contemplation into which my initiated view betrayed me; to check the irrelevant gaze and discouraged sigh in which I constantly both attacked and renounced the enigma of what such a little gentleman could have done that deserved a penalty. Even the legendary craft of the company, a craft subtler and more secret than its fabled books of secret subtle wisdom, had not fired his soul with the energy of apostleship.