"You were in a horrid mood last night." "I was feeling wretchedly ill," he said quietly.
That was the first time he had ever alluded to his own health.
"Not that there is any need to make an excuse," he continued, "for I do not recognise that there is any necessity to consult one's surroundings, and alter the inclination of one's mind accordingly.

Still, as a matter of fact, I felt very ill!" "And to-day ?" she asked.
"To-day I am myself again," he answered quickly: "that usual normal self of mine, whatever that may mean.

I slept well, and I dreamed of you.
I can't say that I had been thinking of you, because I had not.

But I dreamed that we were children together, and playmates.

Now that was very odd: because I was a lonely child, and never had any playmates." "And I was lonely too," said Bernardine.
"Every one is lonely," he said, "but every one does not know it." "But now and again the knowledge comes like a revelation," she said, "and we realise that we stand practically alone, out of any one's reach for help or comfort.