The point was in his being a gifted creature, and that of all his gifts the one that stood out pre-eminently, that carried with it a sense of real presence, was his ability to talk, his words—the gift of expression, the bewildering, the illuminating, the most exalted and the most contemptible, the pulsating stream of light, or the deceitful flow from the heart of an impenetrable darkness.
There are no more uses of "deceit" in the book.
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I’ll never forget her deceit.
Nothing is easier than self-deceit. For what each man wishes, that he also believes to be true.