He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. She was watching him intently. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. She began to look for beauty and discover it in unexpected aspects and places. In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended.
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