Never was a greater difference than that in my companion from the previous day.

Yet he was not silent.
He talked of her continually, having found that he could talk of her to me--though certainly he did not know why it was or how.

He told me, as we sat by the grey-growing sea, that she had spoken of me.
"She liked you, she liked you very much," he said.

"She told me she liked you because you were quiet and melancholy.

Oh Lord, though, she likes everyone, I suppose! I believe I'd have a better chance with her if I hadn't always known her.