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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"Uncle Silas A Tale of Bartram-Haugh"

He used to get cases
of turtle from Liverpool. He drank claret and hock for his health, and ate
woodcock and other light and salutary dainties for the same reason; and
was petulant and vicious about the cooking of these, and the flavour and
clearness of his coffee.
His conversation was easy, polished, and, with a sentimental glazing, cold;
but across this artificial talk, with its French rhymes, racy phrases,
and fluent eloquence, like a streak of angry light, would, at intervals,
suddenly gleam some dismal thought of religion. I never could quite satisfy
myself whether they were affectations or genuine, like intermittent thrills
of pain.
The light of his large eyes was very peculiar. I can liken it to nothing
but the sheen of intense moonlight on burnished metal. But that cannot
express it. It glared white and suddenly--almost fatuous. I thought of
Moore's lines whenever I looked on it:--
Oh, ye dead! oh, ye dead! whom we know by the light you give
From your cold gleaming eyes, though you move like men who live.
I never saw in any other eye the least glimmer of the same baleful
effulgence.


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