Had not she?
Was not she at this very moment quite alone?
Who was there among all whom she knew to whom she could appeal for sympathy?
Not one.

She was left to herself to brood and wonder.
"I could be content," went on Hurstwood, "if I had you to love me.

If I had you to go to; you for a companion.

As it is, I simply move about from place to place without any satisfaction.

Time hangs heavily on my hands.