The old man gave him a warm pressure of the hand, and he departed.

All the way home, he thought with singular interest of the bare sick-room, of the white-headed man watching through the night; the picture impressed him in a way that could not be explained by its natural pathos merely; it kept suggesting all sorts of fanciful ideas, due in a measure, possibly, to Mrs.Hewett's speculations.

For an hour he was so lost in musing on the subject that he even rested from the misery of his ceaseless thought of Clara.
He allowed three days to pass, then went to inquire about Jane's progress.

It had been satisfactory.

Subsequent visits brought him to terms of a certain intimacy with Snowdon.