If anyone in heaven has that face I shall know him again.

Yet when I walked a little farther I found that there was no face, that the window was ten yards away, the lamp ten hundred yards, the cloud beyond the world.

Well, Sunday's face escaped me; it ran away to right and left, as such chance pictures run away.

And so his face has made me, somehow, doubt whether there are any faces.

I don't know whether your face, Bull, is a face or a combination in perspective.
Perhaps one black disc of your beastly glasses is quite close and another fifty miles away.