He liked the night, the dark rain, the river, and even the traffic.

He enjoyed the sense of friction he got from the streaming of people who meant nothing to him.

It was like a fox slipping alert among unsuspecting cattle.
When he got back, he saw in the distance the lights of a taxi standing outside the building where he lived, and heard a thumping and hallooing.
He hurried forward.
It was a man called Herbertson.
"Oh, why, there you are!" exclaimed Herbertson, as Lilly drew near.

"Can I come up and have a chat ?" "I've got that man who's had flu.

I should think he is gone to bed." "Oh!" The disappointment was plain.