We talked together, and I got a glimpse of her real self--of her slender little body, of her earthly tenement, of course, I had an idea before.

She is a lissom thing, with eyes like wells, and with a way to her which conveys the idea of wisdom without wickedness, and which makes a man wish he were not what he is, and were more fitted to associate with her." "That's one good effect, anyhow.

I don't know of any man who more needed to meet such a woman.

How long do you expect this influence to last ?" "Longer than one of your good resolutions, my son; as long as she will have anything to do with me." "Does this brown streak of a saint live in the city?
Is her shrine easy of access?
What are you going to do about it ?" "She's not a saint; she's a piquant, cultivated woman; but she is different, somehow, from any other I've ever met." "You've met a good many, my boy." His face fell a little.
"Yes," he said, "and I almost wish it were different; but the past is not all there is of being.

There's a heap of comfort in that." "Cupid has thumped you with his bird-bolt, certainly.