All Hallows' Eve

I think that’s rather reading things into it.

Richard took a step forward, and said, as engagingly as he could: “It’s the whole impression that counts, don’t you think?”

“Sir Joshua Reynolds”, said Jonathan, “once alluded to ‘common observation and a plain understanding’ as the source of all art. I should like to think I agreed with Sir Joshua here.”

He never said the same thing to two people; something similar perhaps, but always distinguished, though occasionally hardly anyone but he could distinguish the distinction.

the way perhaps to the citta dolente

She had the common, vague idea of her age that if your sexual life was all right you were all right, and she had the common vague idea of all ages that if you (and your sexual life) were not all right, it was probably someone else’s fault—perhaps undeliberate, but still their fault.

Lester saw at once that she also was without a handbag. This lack of what, for both of them, was almost, if not quite, part of their very dress, something without which they were never seen in public; this loss of handkerchief, compact, keys, money, letters, left them peculiarly desolate. They had nothing but themselves and what they wore —no property, no convenience.