My return to the tomb of the ingenious constructor of the microscope settled the question.

Probably no one had ever spent more than half a minute on poor Leeuwenhoek before; and when I turned round again the pipe was alight.

The sexton also was a changed man: before, he had been taciturn, contemptuous; now he was communicative, gay.

He told me that the organist was blind--but none the less a fine player; he led me briskly to the carved pulpit and pointed out, with some exaltation, the figure of Satan with his legs bound.

The cincture seemed to give him a sense of security.
In several ways he made it impossible for me to avoid disregarding Clause 3 in the little guide-books; but I feel quite sure that he has not in consequence lost his situation.
Delft's greatest painter was Johannes Vermeer, known as Vermeer of Delft, of whom I shall have much to say both at the Hague and Amsterdam.