And it is not at all his affair. I’m okay. He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?” “Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone … as I am!… yes, and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an eye.
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