Page 217 - swanns-way

have never since learned how to reduce to its objective ele-
ments any strong impression, since I had not, as they say,
enough ‘power of observation’ to isolate the sense of their
colour, for a long time afterwards, whenever I thought of
her, the memory of those bright eyes would at once pres-
ent itself to me as a vivid azure, since her complexion was
fair; so much so that, perhaps, if her eyes had not been quite
so black—which was what struck one most forcibly on first
meeting her—I should not have been, as I was, especially
enamoured of their imagined blue.
I gazed at her, at first with that gaze which is not merely a
messenger from the eyes, but in whose window all the sens-
es assemble and lean out, petrified and anxious, that gaze
which would fain reach, touch, capture, bear off in triumph
the body at which it is aimed, and the soul with the body;
then (so frightened was I lest at any moment my grandfa-
ther and father, catching sight of the girl, might tear me
away from her, by making me run on in front of them) with
another, an unconsciously appealing look, whose object was
to force her to pay attention to me, to see, to know me. She
cast a glance forwards and sideways, so as to take stock of
my grandfather and father, and doubtless the impression
she formed of them was that we were all absurd people,
for she turned away with an indifferent and contemptuous
air, withdrew herself so as to spare her face the indignity of
remaining within their field of vision; and while they, con-
tinuing to walk on without noticing her, had overtaken and
passed me, she allowed her eyes to wander, over the space
that lay between us, in my direction, without any particular

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