This perfection had never failed her; it had originally been greater than his prime measure for it; it had kept him quite apart, kept him out of the shop, as she called her huge general acquaintance, made their commerce as quiet, as much a thing of the home alone--the opposite of the shop--as if she had never another customer.
She had been wonderful to him at first, with the memory of her little entresol, the image to which, on most mornings at that time, his eyes directly opened; but now she mainly figured for him as but part of the bristling total--though of course always as a person to whom he should never cease to be indebted.

It would never be given to him certainly to inspire a greater kindness.

She had decked him out for others, and he saw at this point at least nothing she would ever ask for.

She only wondered and questioned and listened, rendering him the homage of a wistful speculation.

She expressed it repeatedly; he was already far beyond her, and she must prepare herself to lose him.