His blue eyes — large as the eyes of a woman, clear as the eyes of a child — rested on me the moment I turned toward him, with a strangely varying play of expression, which at once interested and perplexed me.
Now there was doubt — uneasy, painful doubt — in the look; and now again it changed brightly to approval, so open and unrestrained that a vain woman might have fancied she had made a conquest of him at first sight. Suddenly a new emotion seemed to take possession of him. His eyes sank, his head drooped; he lifted his hands with a gesture of regret. He muttered and murmured to himself; pursuing some secret and melancholy train of thought, which seemed to lead him further and further away from present objects of interest, and to plunge him deeper and deeper in troubled recollections o
