To such a one the world was a sorry place.

He had no mind to taste such pleasures as it offered to a rich man with no ideal save physical enjoyment; he no longer cared to search out its beautiful things, to probe its mysteries.

To what end, since all pleasure and all knowledge must end in himself?
...
Where at this moment was Thyrza?
The thought had mingled with all those others.

Did she then love him so much that marriage with Grail had become impossible--that she would rather face every hardship and peril of a hidden life in some dark corner of London?
For she lived; proof of it seemed to be in the refusal of his mind to contemplate a fatal issue of her trial.

She lived, and held him in her heart--the strong, passionate heart, source of music and of love.