If he were insane, however, his was a very cool and collected insanity: I had never seen that handsome-featured face of his look more like chiselled marble than it did just now, as he put aside his snow-wet hair from his forehead and let the firelight shine free on his pale brow and cheek as pale, where it grieved me to discover the hollow trace of care or sorrow now so plainly graved.
Szép arca még sose hasonlított annyira a csiszolt márványhoz, mint most. Kisimította átázott haját a homlokából, és ahogy a tűzfény megvilágította sápadt arcát, fájt látnom, hogy milyen gondterhelt, milyen szomorú ez az arc.