As the unhappy buffoon approached me, thrusting his distorted face towards mine, I seized and pushed him aside, with a brief curse and a violent hand.

The sharp point of the umbrella slipped; my action gave it impetus and weight; it penetrated his eye, and--spare me, spare me the rest.

[This instance of vanity, and indeed the whole of Talbot's history, is literally from facts.] The old man bent down, and paused for a few moments before he resumed.
Crompton lost his eye, but my punishment was as severe as his.

People who are very vain are usually equally susceptible, and they who feel one thing acutely will so feel another.

For years, ay, for many years afterwards, the recollection of my folly goaded me with the bitterest and most unceasing remorse.