"True in the main only; for no lines of absolute division can be drawn in nature. I have seen ugly flowers."
"I grant it; but they are exceptional; and none of them are without beauty."
"Surely not. The ugliest soul even is not without some beauty. But I grant you that the higher you rise the more is ugliness possible, just because the greater beauty is possible. There is no ugliness to equal in its repulsiveness the ugliness of a beautiful face."
A pause followed.
"I presume," I said, "you are thinking of returning to London now, there seems so little to be gained by remaining here. When this weather begins to show itself I could wish myself in my own parish; but I am sure the change, even through the winter, will be good for my daughter."
"I must be going soon," he answered; "but it would be too bad to take offence at the old lady's first touch of temper. I mean to wait and see whether we shall not have a little bit of St. Martin's summer, as Shakspere calls it; after which, hail London, queen of smoke and—"
"And what?" I asked, seeing he hesitated.
"'And soap,' I was fancying you would say; for you never will allow the worst of things, Mr. Walton."
"No, surely I will not. For one thing, the worst has never been seen by anybody yet. We have no experience to justify it."
We were chatting in this loose manner when Walter came to the door to tell me that a messenger had come from Mrs. Stokes.