The hospital used him, the clergy found plenty for him to do for them, the museum had room for other pictures of his.

Who among them all had ever sought him without a motive?
Who among them all had ever found unselfish pleasure in him?
Not one.
Something in the dull sadness of his face, as he sat there, checked the first elaborately careless question her lips were already framing.
Leaning a little nearer in the dim light she looked at him inquiringly and he returned her gaze in silence.
"What is it, Mr.Plank," she said; "is anything wrong ?" He knew that she did not mean to ask if anything was amiss with him.

She did not care.

Nobody cared.

So, recognising his cue, he answered: "No, nothing is wrong that I have heard of." "You wear a very solemn countenance." "Gaiety affects me solemnly, sometimes.