Paul Muniment had fits of silence, while the others were talking; but on this occasion he had not opened his lips for half an hour. When he talked Hyacinth listened, almost holding his breath; and when he said nothing Hyacinth watched him fixedly¹, listening to the others only through the medium of his candid² countenance³. At the ‘Sun and Moon’ Muniment paid very little attention to his young friend, doing nothing that should cause it to be perceived they were particular pals⁴; and Hyacinth even thought, at moments, that he was bored or irritated by the serious manner in which the little bookbinder could not conceal⁵ from the world that he regarded him. He wondered whether this were a system, a calculated prudence⁶, on Muniment’s part, or only a manifestation⁷ of that superior brutality⁸, latent in his composition, which never had an intention of unkindness but was naturally intolerant of palaver¹⁰. There was plenty of palaver at the ‘Sun and Moon’; there were nights when a blast of imbecility seemed to blow over the place, and one felt ashamed to be associated with so much insistent¹² ignorance and flat-faced vanity. Then every one, with two or three exceptions, made an ass¹¹ of himself, thumping¹³ the table and repeating over some

分享到：