But it could have been neither the execution of the work, nor the immortal beauty of the countenance, which had so suddenly and
so vehemently moved me. Least of all, could it have been that my fancy, shaken from its half slumber, had mistaken the head for that of a living person. I saw at once that the peculiarities of the design, of the vignetting, and of the frame, must have instantly dispelled such idea—must have prevented even its momentary entertainment. It emphasizes the portrait’s artistry.
It emphasizes the narrator’s mistakes.
It emphasizes the portrait’s history.
It emphasizes the narrator’s denial.
