Microcosm of blasphemies

Smoke and Nebula have met once! I've come to believe that all smoke and all nebulae have some depth-any amount of depth that is some-and of Smoke's depth, I'm intrigued. He is rich, he is happily settled, perhaps happily joined, too-however small the chance of that may be-and has the one Cloud from that one meeting. Whenever we converse, he reveals not much; he is quick to crack a joke, he is quick to sprout in laughter, he is quick to philanthropy, and his demeanour only tells me he gives away so that he may receive in return the right to condescension. Agreed, altruism is a false virtue; nevertheless, Smoke is, by the looks of it, plastic: the veritable subject of any inquisition on the foibles of human nature, a true man-not the manly man, but the one who has known damage and, thereafter, recovered to completion, a true man.