His eyes had a shrewd, searching expression, difficult to interpret.

Still, he listened to the rhapsody without interrupting it, till Hyacinth stopped abruptly, smitten with sudden self-consciousness, terrified of imminent ridicule.
Nor were the priest's first words reassuring.
'I wouldn't say now, Hyacinth Conneally, but there might be the makings of a fine man in you yet.' 'I might have known,' said Hyacinth angrily, 'that you'd laugh at me.

I was a fool to tell you at all.

But I'm in earnest about what I'm going to do.

Whatever you may think about the rest, there's no laughing at that.' 'Well, you're just wrong then, for I wasn't laughing nor meaning to laugh at all.