The stories did not seem to me to touch life. […] They left me with the impression of a well-delivered stereopticon lecture, with characters about as life-like as the shadows on the screen, and whisking on and off, at the mercy of the operator.

He wore a domino, but beneath it could be seen his whiskers, cut after the English fashion, and long and pendent.

That nought she did but wayle, and often steepe / Her dainty couch with tears which closely she did weepe.

“This boy Victor’s going to show us where.” “Well lessgo, lessgo!”