It is very kind of them, but I do wish they would leave me alone.

Very well, Jones.

I shall write.

Do you know, Robert, I am often very unhappy." He frequently called the young artist by his Christian name, especially in his more confidential moments.
"I have sometimes feared that you were," said the other sympathetically.
"But how strange it seems, you who are yet young, healthy, with every faculty for enjoyment, and a millionaire." "Ah, Robert," cried Haw, leaning back in his chair, and sending up thick blue wreaths from his pipe.

"You have put your finger upon my trouble.