There were no higher heights to climb in that boarding house.

His popularity was complete.
In the presence of people, Tracy showed a tranquil outside, but his heart was being eaten out of him by distress and despair.
In a little while he should be out of money, and then what should he do?
He wished, now, that he had borrowed a little more liberally from that stranger's store.

He found it impossible to sleep.

A single torturing, terrifying thought went racking round and round in his head, wearing a groove in his brain: What should he do--What was to become of him?
And along with it began to intrude a something presently which was very like a wish that he had not joined the great and noble ranks of martyrdom, but had stayed at home and been content to be merely an earl and nothing better, with nothing more to do in this world of a useful sort than an earl finds to do.

But he smothered that part of his thought as well as he could; he made every effort to drive it away, and with fair keep it from intruding a little success, but he couldn't now and then, and when it intruded it came suddenly and nipped him like a bite, a sting, a burn.
He recognized that thought by the peculiar sharpness of its pang.