She would never forget the agony of that first meal in the great dining room. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. Decidedly this was imbecile. You needn’t be in any doubt about it. Everything was blurred. No matter how many books one read, each was different, as each human being was different.
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