I am practically alone.

There is nothing in my life that is pleasant or delightful.

It's all work and worry with people who are nothing to me." As he said this, Hurstwood really imagined that his state was pitiful.

He had the ability to get off at a distance and view himself objectively--of seeing what he wanted to see in the things which made up his existence.

Now, as he spoke, his voice trembled with that peculiar vibration which is the result of tensity.