The face in its latest development seemed to afford him some satisfaction.
One morning, early in May, Serena was sitting with him in the room he used as a studio.

Experience of life, and a certain measure of happiness, had made the raw girl a very pleasing and energetic woman; her face was comely, her manner refined, she spoke softly and thoughtfully, but with spirit.
"It is wonderful," she said, after gazing long, with knitted brows, at the Judas, "but horrible.

I wish it hadn't taken hold of you so." "Taken hold of me?
I care very little about it." "Oh, nonsense! That's your worst fault, Eustace.

You seem ashamed of being in earnest.

I wish you had found a pleasanter subject, but I am delighted to see you _do_ something.