“Mr. Utterson the lawyer seemed harsh; his face was never lit by a smile. He spoke coldly, briefly, sparingly with words, and often searched for expressions. He didn’t like showing his feelings. He was tall and thin, gloomy—but still, to a certain extent, attractive. During friendly feasts, especially when the wine suited Utterson, something gentle and human would flicker in his eyes—something that never slipped into his speech, but appeared not only in silent glances after dinner; more often and more strongly the lawyer’s gentleness showed in his actions and way of life. He was strict with himself—drank gin when he was alone to drown his craving for wine. And although he loved plays, for twenty years he hadn’t set foot in any theatre.
But Utterson was very indulgent toward others. The lawyer sometimes, almost with envy, spoke about the strength of spirit hidden in people’s faults—and in general he was more inclined to help the fallen than to condemn them…”