“Well, I take it those benches were placed there for fellows to rest on who had few arm-chairs at home.”
“I don't think, in all my experience of humanity, I ever saw a face that revolted me more. He is n't ugly, but there is something in the expression so intensely wicked, that mockery of all goodness, that Retsch puts into Mephistopheles; it actually thrills me.”
“I don't see that—there is even drollery in the mouth.”
“Yes, diabolic humor, certainly. Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“Did n't you see that when I lifted my glass to my lips, he made a pantomime of drinking too, and bowed to me, as though in salutation?”
“I knew there was fun in the fellow. Let us call him over and speak to him.”
“No, no, Pracontal; do not, I beseech you. I feel an aversion towards him that I cannot explain. The rascal poisons the very claret I 'm drinking just by glancing at me.”
“You are seldom so whimsical.”
“Would n't you say the fellow knew we were talking of him? See he is smiling now; if that infernal grin can be called a smile.”