and then, without mirth in his countenance, but as if moved by an involuntary recognition of the infinite absurdity of seeking throughout the world for what was the closest of all things to himself, and looking into every heart, save his own, for what was hidden in no other breast, he broke into a laugh of scorn. it was the same slow, heavy laugh, that had almost appalled the lime-burner when it heralded the wayfarer's approach.