CANDIDA (delighted--nodding). Yes. His uncle's a peer--a real
live earl.

BURGESS (not daring to believe such good news). No!

CANDIDA. Yes. He had a seven day bill for 55 pounds in his pocket
when James found him on the Embankment. He thought he couldn't
get any money for it until the seven days were up; and he was too
shy to ask for credit. Oh, he's a dear boy! We are very fond of
him.

BURGESS (pretending to belittle the aristocracy, but with his
eyes gleaming). Hm, I thort you wouldn't git a piorr's (peer's)
nevvy visitin' in Victoria Park unless he were a bit of a flat.
(Looking again at the picture.) Of course I don't 'old with that
pictur, Candy; but still it's a 'igh class, fust rate work of
art: I can see that. Be sure you hintroduce me to him, Candy. (He
looks at his watch anxiously.) I can only stay about two minutes.

Morell comes back with Eugene, whom Burgess contemplates
moist-eyed with enthusiasm. He is a strange, shy youth of
eighteen, slight, effeminate, with a delicate childish voice, and
a hunted, tormented expression and shrinking manner that show the
painful sensitiveness that very swift and acute apprehensiveness
produces in youth, before the character has grown to its full
strength. Yet everything that his timidity and frailty suggests
is contradicted by his face. He is miserably irresolute, does
not know where to stand or what to do with his hands and feet, is
afraid of Burgess, and would run away into solitude if he dared;
but the very intensity with which he feels a perfectly