He wet alone to hear her words

Evidently she meant He wet alone to hear her words, but Hirst demanded,"What d'you mean?"She was instantly ashamed of her figure of speech, for she couldnot explain it in words of sober criticism. 　　"Surely it's the most perfect style, so far as style goes, that's everbeen invented," he continued. "Every sentence is practically perfect,and the wit--""Ugly in body, repulsive in mind," she thought, instead of thinkingabout Gibbon's style. "Yes, but strong, searching, unyielding in mind."She looked at his big head, a disproportionate part of which wasoccupied by the forehead, and at the direct, severe eyes. 　　"I give you up in despair," he said. He meant it lightly, but shetook it seriously, and believed that her value as a human being waslessened because she did not happen to admire the style of Gibbon. 　　The others were talking now in a group about the native villageswhich Mrs. Flushing ought to visit. 　　"I despair too," she said impetuously. "How are you going to judgepeople merely by their minds?""You agree with my spinster Aunt, I expect," said St. John in hisjaunty manner, which was always irritating because it made the personhe talked to appear unduly clumsy and in earnest. "'Be good,sweet maid'--I thought Mr. Kingsley and my Aunt were now obsolete.""One can be very nice without having read a book," she asserted. 　　Very silly and simple her words sounded, and laid her opento derision. 　　"Did I ever deny it?" Hirst enquired, raising his eyebrows. 　　Most unexpectedly Mrs. Thornbury here intervened, either because itwas her mission to keep things smooth or because she had longwished to speak to Mr. Hirst, feeling as she did that young menwere her sons. 　　"I have lived all my life with people like your Aunt, Mr. Hirst,"she said, leaning forward in her chair. Her brown squirrel-likeeyes became even brighter than usual. "They have never heardof Gibbon. They only care for their pheasants and their peasants.