.' Marlow paused to put new life into his expiring cheroot, seemed to forget all about the story, and abruptly began again.
'My fault of course.

One has no business really to get interested.

It's a weakness of mine.

His was of another kind.

My weakness consists in not having a discriminating eye for the incidental--for the externals--no eye for the hod of the rag-picker or the fine linen of the next man.
Next man--that's it.