He had those lips at once mobile, governed and patient, upon which genius chooses oftenest to rest.

As to this, Advena's convictions were so private as to be hidden from herself; she never admitted that she thought Finlay had it, and in the supreme difficulty of proving anything else we may wisely accept her view.

But he had something, the subtle Celt; he had horizons, lifted lines beyond the common vision, and an eye rapt and a heart intrepid; and though for a long time he was unconscious of it, he must have adventured there with a happier confidence because of her companionship.
From the first Advena knew no faltering or fluttering, none of the baser nervous betrayals.

It was all one great delight to her, her discovery and her knowledge and her love for him.

It came to her almost in a logical development; it found her grave, calm, and receptive.