It is because their being as sensibilia does not depend upon their being intentional objects for anyone […]

St. Martin [of Tours] looks round, first, deliberately;—becomes aware of a tatterdemalion and thirsty-looking soul of a beggar at his chair side, who has managed to get his cup filled somehow, also—by a charitable lacquey. St. Martin turns his back on the Empress, and hobnobs with him!

Feeling stuffed to near unbearability, the pair slowly made their way back towards home.

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