But Grandcourt did not belong to this eccentric body of thinkers. He had all his life had reason to take a flattering view of his own attractiveness, and to place himself in fine antithesis to the men who, he saw at once, must be revolting to a woman of taste. He had no idea of moral repulsion, and could not have believed, if he had been told it, that there may be a resentment and disgust which will gradually make beauty more detestable than ugliness, through exasperation at that outward virtue in which hateful things can flaunt themselves or find a supercilious advantage.
How, then, could Grandcourt divine what was going on in Gwendolen's breast?
For their behavior to each other scandalized no observer--not even the foreign maid, warranted against sea-sickness; nor Grandcourt's own experienced valet: still less the picturesque crew, who regarded them as a model couple in high life. Their companionship consisted chiefly in a well-bred silence. Grandcourt had no humorous observations at which Gwendolen could refuse to smile, no chit-chat to make small occasions of dispute. He was perfectly polite in arranging an additional garment over her when needful, and in handing her any object that he perceived her to need, and she could not fall into the vulgarity of accepting or rejecting such politeness rudely.
Grandcourt put up his telescope and said, "There's a plantation of sugar-canes at the foot of that rock; should you like to look?"

He had all his life had reason to take a flattering view of his own attractiveness to women of taste. He had no idea of moral repulsion, and could not have believed that there may be a disgust which will gradually make beauty more detestable than ugliness, through exasperation at that outward advantage in which hateful things can affect superiority.
How, then, could Grandcourt divine what was going on in Gwendolen's breast?
For their behaviour to each other scandalized no observer: the staff and crew regarded them as a model couple in high life. Their companionship consisted chiefly in a well-bred silence. Grandcourt had no humorous observations at which Gwendolen could refuse to smile. He was perfectly polite in arranging a garment over her when needful, and in handing her any object that he perceived her to need, and she could not fall into the vulgarity of rejecting such politeness rudely.
Grandcourt put up his telescope and said, "There's a plantation of sugar-canes there; should you like to look?"
