He sat down on one of the lower steps, quite exhausted, without noticing the lighted lamps of a carriage which was waiting close to him, doubtless the Minister's carriage, and not caring who might see him.

He breathed more freely; his indignation was beginning to cool down and turn to sorrow, and a desire to weep for the sad blindness of the world.

Then he began to feel so lonely, so bitterly lonely.

Only she, the partner of his past errors, had watched, had discovered, had acted.

Only through her had he been able to hold his own with the Minister, knowing what manner of language to use with him.