On rising, he durst not speak, so bitter was he made by Elgar's singing and whistling.

Yet he would not have eared to prevent the journey to Naples, had it been in his power.

He was sick of Elgar's company; he wished for solitude.

When his eyes fell on the materials of his art, he turned away in disgust.
"You'll get to work as soon as I'm gone," cried Reuben, cheerfully.
"Yes." He said it to avoid conversation.
"Cheer up, old man! I shall not disappoint you this time.

You have my promise." "Yes." A two-horse carriage was at the door.