"You look and speak like an Englishman," said the gentleman.
"I am one."
"From your words I should judge that this part of England is strange to you."
"It is more than thirty years since I was last in Devonshire."
"That is a long time--you must find it changed somewhat."
"Somewhat."
While these words were being exchanged, their observance of each other, which had been slight at first, grew closer and more searching, and into their eyes stole a pondering look so curiously alike that one seemed to be a reflection of the other. But for the influence which this close observance exercised upon him, the gentleman would not have stopped to converse with an unknown man, and with one so far beneath him, from a worldly point of view. The stranger repeated thoughtfully:
"Yes, I find it somewhat changed."
"It is in the nature of things," said the gentleman, "to change as we grow older."
"Not so. I find it changed because I have changed. Old eyes and young eyes see the same things differently. Are the clouds less bright than they were when we were young? Are the flowers less beautiful? When Jacob courted Laban's daughters o' nights (how they must have laughed in their sleeves, if they wore them, at the old man's craft!) were the nights less lovely than the nights are now?"