III
He christened her Bianca; and she came to the name as humbly as a dog to any that his master chooses to bestow on him. It is so: hence it must be so. A more spirited creature might at least have shown some curiosity. Not so she: she had not a grain of spirit in her. Altogether there was something dog-like about her: her dumbness, her servileness, her . . . her stupidity. Yes, that word fitted her best: stupid she was, and stupid she remained. Thus, at the end of a day or two, he summed her up.
In this dullness, which warped their i*********e and made all but the crude physical side of it a cumbrous and a laboured thing, her eyes alone had no share. These continued to burn with a strange inner light, and lost none of their power to move him. He still felt, when she turned them on him,
