But I know that Titbottom regards
such an excess as venial, for his sadness is so sweet that you could
believe it the reflection of a smile from long, long years ago.
One day, after I had been talking for a long time, and we had put up
our books, and were preparing to leave, he stood for some time by the
window, gazing with a drooping intentness, as if he really saw
something more than the dark court, and said slowly:
"Perhaps you would have different impressions of things if you saw
them through my spectacles."
There was no change in his expression. He still looked from the
window, and I said:
"Titbottom, I did not know that you used glasses. I have never seen
you wearing spectacles."
"No, I don't often wear them. I am not very fond of looking through
them. But sometimes an irresistible necessity compels me to put them
on, and I cannot help seeing." Titbottom sighed.
"Is it so grievous a fate, to see?" inquired I.
"Yes; through my spectacles," he said, turning slowly and looking at
me with wan solemnity.
It grew dark as we stood in the office talking, and taking our hats we
went out together.
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