He is welcome to the comfort he can get out of this, for he certainly gets none from anything else.

The society of your correspondent is not that balm to his spirit which he appeared to expect, and this in spite of the fact that I have been as gentle and kind with him as I know how to be.

He is very silent--he sometimes sits for ten minutes without speaking; I assure you it is n't amusing.
Sometimes he looks at me as if he were going to break out with that crazy idea to which he treated me the other day.

But he says nothing, and then I see that he is not thinking of me--he is simply thinking of Blanche.

The more he thinks of her the better." "My dear Bernard," she began on another occasion, "I hope you are not dying of ennui, etc.