Wherefore it was in fear and trembling, and with great modesty of
spirit, that I entered the Presence. To confess that I was shocked
were to do my feelings an injustice. Perhaps the blame may be
shouldered upon Shylock, Fagin, and their ilk; but I had conceived an
entirely different type of individual. This man--why, he was clean
to look at, his eyes were blue, with the tired look of scholarly
lucubrations, and his skin had the normal pallor of sedentary
existence. He was reading a book, sober and leather-bound, while on
his finely moulded, intellectual head reposed a black skull-cap. For
all the world his look and attitude were those of a college
professor. My heart gave a great leap. Here was hope! But no; he
fixed me with a cold and glittering eye, searching with the chill of
space till my financial status stood before him shivering and
ashamed. I communed with myself: By his brow he is a thinker, but
his intellect has been prostituted to a mercenary exaction of toll
from misery.
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