The figure gazed at the portrait and sighed too.
"Here again ?" said the Haunted Man.
"Here again," it repeated in a low voice.
"Another novel ?" "Another novel." "The old story ?" "The old story." "I see a child," said the Haunted Man, gazing from the pages of the book into the fire,--"a most unnatural child, a model infant.

It is prematurely old and philosophic.

It dies in poverty to slow music.

It dies surrounded by luxury to slow music.

It dies with an accompaniment of golden water and rattling carts to slow music.