He murmured now and then to himself: "_Self_-denial--that is not the hard work.

Penniless myself--_that_ is play," and so on.

He turned by and by and stood looking up at that picture of the man in the cuirass which Aurora had once noticed.

He looked at it, but he did not see it.
He was thinking--"Her rent is due to-morrow.

She will never believe I am not her landlord.