Nemo is Himself, unaffected by his icon, a tall, oldish man with dark smooth skin and dark secret eyes and a strange, dark, angry handsomeness; he has spent his new life hating, and he has also spent his new life learning and finding and loving a new world. He does not love the land (the land is ugly, hard, and full of men who do not understand what life is, and the value of killing and the value of living), but he will walk in it.
The lake is like looking through a tiny window at home, so he doesn't mind it. He might have seen Feuilly, but he doesn't seem to have, standing on the bank, looking at the water and ice (and perhaps thinking of India, or perhaps thinking of the ocean, or perhaps--who knows).
Despite all the accumulated evidence to the contrary, Feuilly does have some manners, acquired from somewhere, and as he draws even with the man on the lakeshore he offers a tolerably civil "Evening."
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The lake is like looking through a tiny window at home, so he doesn't mind it. He might have seen Feuilly, but he doesn't seem to have, standing on the bank, looking at the water and ice (and perhaps thinking of India, or perhaps thinking of the ocean, or perhaps--who knows).
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