Man's attractions, physical and personal, had left only the
lightest of surface impressions--until the advent of this man.
To what in him was she responsive? What intellectual charm had he
revealed? What latent spiritual excellence did she suspect? What
were his lesser qualities--the simpler moral virtues--the admirable
attributes which a woman could recognise. Nay, where even were the
nobler failings, the forgivable faults, the promise of future
things?
Her uplifted, questioning eyes searched and fell. Only the
clear-cut beauty of his head answered her, only the body's grace.
She sometimes suspected pity as her one besetting sin. Was it pity
for this man--a young man only twenty-four, her own age, so
cheerful under the crushing weight of material ruin? Was it his
poverty that appealed?
Was it her instinct to protect? If all she heard was true, he
sorely needed protection from himself. For tales of him had
filtered to her young ears--indefinite rumours of unworthy
things--of youth wasted and manhood threatened--of excesses
incomprehensible to her, and to those who hinted them to her.
Was it his solitude in the world for which she was sorry? She had
no parents, either.
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