Think of the strong man bound for a lifetime, Goliath--of a dumb and palsied genius gazing out of a prison-house.

Could even a blinded Samson equal the pathos of such a picture ?" Amias shook his head mutely, and felt a third time for his pipe, and plugged the tobacco tenderly with his finger.

In some moods he never argued with Malcolm.
"I shall write the autobiography of this poor tormented soul," went on Malcolm--"this dumb poet, this crippled artist, to whom the birthright of failure has descended, who has to look on for a lifetime at other men's labours, and to whom the power of expression and creation is denied, who has been gifted with the seeing eye in vain." "Oh that seeing eye!" groaned Amias, who had heard this observation at least a hundred times.

Then Verity began to laugh, and, to Anna's surprise, Malcolm followed suit.

Then he clapped Amias heavily on the shoulder.
"Where's your pipe, Goliath?
Poor old Philistine, he is a gone coon without his baccy.