I can look at you. My attention wanders if I don't look at people while
they read."

Arnold took a stool at Blanche's feet, and opened the "First Book" of
Paradise Lost. His "system" as a reader of blank verse was simplicity
itself. In poetry we are some of us (as many living poets can testify)
all for sound; and some of us (as few living poets can testify) all for
sense. Arnold was for sound. He ended every line inexorably with a
full stop; and he got on to his full stop as fast as the inevitable
impediment of the words would let him. He began:

"Of Man's first disobedience and the fruit.
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste.
Brought death into the world and all our woe.
With loss of Eden till one greater Man.
Restore us and regain the blissful seat.
Sing heavenly Muse--"

"Beautiful!" said Blanche. "What a shame it seems to have had Milton all
this time in the library and never to have read him yet! We will have
Mornings with Milton, Arnold. He seems long; but we are both young, and
we _may_ live to get to the end of him. Do you know dear, now I look
at you again, you don't seem to have come back to Windygates in good
spirits."

"Don't I? I can't account for it."

"I can. It's sympathy with Me. I am out of spirits too."

"You!"