The Blithedale Romance by Nathaniel Hawthorne Chapter 21 Page 14

throb of the soul’s life is too faint and weak to render us capable of religious aspiration.

“Mr. Moodie,” said I, “shall we lunch together? And would you like to drink a glass of wine?”

His one eye gleamed. He bowed; and it impressed me that he grew to be more of a man at once, either in anticipation of the wine, or as a grateful response to my good fellowship in offering it.

“With pleasure,” he replied.

The bar-keeper, at my request, showed us into a private room, and soon afterwards set some fried oysters and a bottle of claret on the table; and I saw the old man glance curiously at the label of the bottle, as if to learn the brand.

“It should be good wine,”