I could not help saying it; but I do not say it as men generally say such things.

I am not like other men: I have lived alone all my life with my mother.

You need not mind my saying your face is lovely, any more than my saying that the ferns on the walls are lovely." If Stephen had known Mercy from her childhood, he could not have framed his words more wisely.

Every fibre of her artistic nature recognized the possibility of a subtle truth in what he said, and his calm, dreamy tone and look heightened this impression.

Moreover, as Stephen's soul had been during all the past four weeks slowly growing into the feeling which made it inevitable that he should say these words on first looking closely and intimately into Mercy's face, so had her soul been slowly growing into the feeling which made it seem not really foreign or unnatural to her that he should say them.
She answered him with hesitating syllables, quite unlike her usual fluent speech.
"I think you must mean what you say, Mr.White; and you do not say it as other men have said it.