Mr. Rivers now closed his book, approached the table, and, as he took a seat, fixed his blue pictorial-looking eyes full on me. There was an unceremonious directness, a searching, decided steadfastness in his gaze now, which told that intention, and not diffidence, had hitherto kept it averted from the stranger.
Rivers cerró su libro, se acercó a la mesa, se sentó y clavó sus azules ojos en los míos con una naturalidad que me hizo comprender que no me había hablado hasta entonces adrede, no por timidez o desconfianza.