Its drawl was an echo of the quays of Dublin given back by a bleak decaying seaport, its energy an echo of the sacred eloquence of Dublin given back flatly by a Wicklow pulpit. The distinction has flattered their pride, retarded their improvement, and in many instances paved the way to their destruction. Only, put it to me again!" I cried in a way that made my friend stare. The shock, in truth, had sunk into me still deeper than I knew on the night when, looking out to see either Quint or Miss Jessel under the stars, I had beheld the boy over whose rest I watched and who had immediately brought in with him-- had straightway, there, turned it on me--the lovely upward look with which, from the battlements above me, the hideous apparition of Quint had played.