I stood up with my back against the mantelpiece for as long as a man may smoke a cigarette, and I let him yarn to me, while I looked steadily at his face.

By this time I was very clear that Wake was not the fellow to give me my instructions.

He wasn't playing a game.

He was a perfectly honest crank, but not a fanatic, for he wasn't sure of himself.

He had somehow lost his self-respect and was trying to argue himself back into it.