“We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. . Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. " "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. ‘Eh bien, you are not like Leonardo.
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