But it must not be imagined that chance took him there.

The Weights and Measures was an Elysium, the door of which was never casually open.
Charley at this time was a much-altered man; not that he had become a good clerk at his old office--such a change one may say was impossible; there were no good clerks at the Internal Navigation, and Charley had so long been among navvies the most knavish or navviest, that any such transformation would have met with no credence--but out of his office he had become a much-altered man.

As Katie had said, it was as though some one had come to him from the dead.

He could not go back to his old haunts, he could not return like a dog to his vomit, as long as he had that purse so near his heart, as long as that voice sounded in his ear, while the memory of that kiss lingered in his heart.
He now told everything to Gertrude, all his debts, all his love, and all his despair.

There is no relief for sorrow like the sympathy of a friend, if one can only find it.