The same sad clearness of vision affected his judgment of the world about him, of the activities in which he had once been zealous, of the conditions which enveloped his life and the lives of those dear to him.

The spirit of revolt often enough stirred within him, but no longer found utterance in the speech which brings relief; he did his best to dispel the mood, mocking at it as folly.

Consciously he set himself the task of becoming a practical man, of learning to make the best of life as he found it, of shunning as the fatal error that habit of mind which kept John Hewett on the rack.

Who was he that he should look for pleasant things in his course through the world?
'We are the lower orders; we are the working classes,' he said bitterly to his friend, and that seemed the final answer to all his aspirations.
This was a dark day with him.

The gold he handled stung him to hatred and envy, and every feeling which he had resolved to combat as worse than profitless.