I had a sort of idea,” he went on, “that you were starting life all over again, and it seemed awfully plucky. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. I’ll pay it. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. She had imagined she had drowned them altogether. Now if you are ready to go with me, I too am ready. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks.
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