I had wondered--and I wondered now--how it was that for him they seemed to shine as with hearth-warmth and hearth-glow.
_He_ cared for them perhaps too much; _I_, probably, too little.
However, I had my own fancies as well as he.

I liked, for instance, to see M.Emanuel jealous; it lit up his nature, and woke his spirit; it threw all sorts of queer lights and shadows over his dun face, and into his violet-azure eyes (he used to say that his black hair and blue eyes were "une de ses beautes").

There was a relish in his anger; it was artless, earnest, quite unreasonable, but never hypocritical.

I uttered no disclaimer then of the complacency he attributed to me; I merely asked where the English examination came in--whether at the commencement or close of the day?
"I hesitate," said he, "whether at the very beginning, before many persons are come, and when your aspiring nature will not be gratified by a large audience, or quite at the close, when everybody is tired, and only a jaded and worn-out attention will be at your service." "Que vous etes dur, Monsieur!" I said, affecting dejection.
"One ought to be 'dur' with you.

You are one of those beings who must be _kept down_.