To this primary mistake could be traced his intensely personal
philosophy. Slowly but surely there had dried up in his heart the wish
to be his brother.'"
He stopped reading suddenly.
"I see him coming in," he said.
The next minute the door opened, and Hilary entered.
"She has not come," said Mr. Stone; and Bianca murmured:
"We miss her!"
"Her eyes," said Mr. Stone, "have a peculiar look; they help me to see
into the future. I have noticed the same look in the eyes of female
dogs."
With a little laugh, Bianca murmured again:
"That is good!"
"There is one virtue in dogs," said Hilary, "which human beings
lack--they are incapable of mockery."
But Bianca's lips, parted, indrawn, seemed saying: 'You ask too much! I
no longer attract you. Am I to sympathise in the attraction this common
little girl has for you?'
Mr. Stone's gaze was fixed intently on the wall.
"The dog," he said, "has lost much of its primordial character."
And, moving to his desk, he took up his quill pen.
Hilary and Bianca made no sound, nor did they look at one another;
and in this silence, so much more full of meaning than any talk, the
scratching of the quill went on. Mr. Stone put it down at last, and,
seeing two persons in the room, read:
"'Looking back at those days when the doctrine of evolution had reached
its pinnacle, one sees how the human mind, by its habit of continual
crystallisations, had destroyed all the meaning of the process.
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