What are you trying to do for yourself at the present moment?
Is it for the sake of improving the physical condition or of promoting the moral case of mankind at large that you are dragging me through the slums and byways and alleys of the gloomiest city on this side of eternal perdition?
It is certainly not for my welfare that you are sacrificing yourself.

You admit that you are pursuing an idea.
Perhaps you are in search of some new and curious form of mildew, and when you have found it--or something else--you will name your discovery _Fungus Pragensis_, or _Cryptogamus minor Errantis_--'the Wanderer's toadstool.' But I know you of old, my good friend.

The idea you pursue is not an idea at all, but that specimen of the _genus homo_ known as 'woman,' species 'lady,' variety 'true love,' vulgar designation 'sweetheart.'" The Wanderer stared coldly at his companion.
"The vulgarity of the designation is indeed only equalled by that of your taste in selecting it," he said slowly.

Then he turned away, intending to leave Keyork standing where he was.
But the little man had already repented of his speech.

He ran quickly to his friend's side and laid one hand upon his arm.