She was possessed, as in
the middle ages. She made pictures in her mind of the poet's abode, of
his study; she saw him unsealing her letter; and then followed myriads
of suppositions.
After sketching the poetry we cannot do less than give the profile of
the poet. Canalis is a short, spare man, with an air of good-breeding,
a dark-complexioned, moon-shaped face, and a rather mean head like
that of a man who has more vanity than pride. He loves luxury, rank,
and splendor. Money is of more importance to him than to most men.
Proud of his birth, even more than of his talent, he destroys the
value of his ancestors by making too much of them in the present day,
--after all, the Canalis are not Navarreins, nor Cadignans, nor
Grandlieus. Nature, however, helps him out in his pretensions. He has
those eyes of Eastern effulgence which we demand in a poet, a delicate
charm of manner, and a vibrant voice; yet a taint of natural
charlatanism destroys the effect of nearly all these advantages; he is
a born comedian. If he puts forward his well-shaped foot, it is
because the attitude has become a habit; if he uses exclamatory terms
they are part of himself; if he poses with high dramatic action he has
made that deportment his second nature.
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