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Updated: May 4, 2025
The thought in his mind seemed at variance with his assertions of maturity and manhood, but he spoke it with characteristic frankness. "Valmy frightens me." "Why?" repeated Commines. "Because of its silences, its coldness, its inhumanity no, not inhumanity, its inhumanness. In Valmy no man sings; in Valmy few men laugh. When they speak they say little and their eyes are always afraid.
Yet it was not this alone that stunned the mind of the master pilot, but the horrible incongruity, of this monstrous inhumanness allied with the human form of their bodies.
It told me and fiercely it struggled to make me realize what it was that it told. Its insistence was borne upon little despairing, rhythmic beatings throbbings that were like the muffled sobbings of the drums of grief. Louder, closer came the throbbing; clearer with it my perception of the inhumanness of my thought. The drum beat tapped at my humanity, became a dolorous knocking at my heart.
"Why," faltered Robin, vaguely repelled as much as ever, "did it matter to you?" "Because," he answered Oh, the cold inhumanness of his gray eye! "you happened to live in this house." "I thought that was perhaps the reason," she said and she felt that he made her "creep" even a shade more. "I beg your pardon," she added, suddenly remembering, "Please sit down." "Thank you," as he sat.
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