And now the gates had closed, and the golden pinnacles were no longer visible, and the breath of the roses and the fragrance of the spices of Araby the blessed would no longer steep his senses in sweetness.

Nevermore--oh, nevermore would those blissful dreams be his! Malcolm never quite recollected what he did with himself that evening.
The idea of going back to the Crow's Nest in his present state of mind was simply intolerable.

How could he have joined in the simple meal and listened to Goliath's talk! No, it would be better to have a good long walk and look things in the face, and if he tired himself so much the better.

But Malcolm never retained any clear recollection of that walk.

He had a vague idea that he passed Earlsfield station, and presently he found himself on the open moor, where he had driven with Elizabeth the day when she had so naively confessed her ignorance to him.