If so, he had got his deserts.

It mattered very little now, and it was a waste of thought to think of him at all.
The young man had a big fire built in the library, and sat down in his favourite leathern chair under the shaded light.

He was tired, but not sleepy, and he was glad to be alone at last, for he had felt Corbario's evil presence in the house, though they had met little of late, and it was a great relief to know that he would never return.
He was glad to be alone, and yet he felt lonely, for the one condition did not make the other impossible.

He was glad to be able to think in peace, but when he did think, he longed for some companionship in his thoughts, and he found that he was wishing himself back in the room that looked down upon the Forum of Trajan, with Aurora, and that she was telling him again that she could trust him; and yet the very thought seemed to mean that he was not to be trusted.
Psychological problems are only interesting when they concern other people than ourselves, for there can be no problem where there is not a difficulty, and where the inner self is concerned there can be no difficulty that does not demand immediate solution if we are to find peace.

Some men of very strong and thoughtful character are conscious of a sort of second self within themselves, to which they appeal in trouble as Socrates to his Daemon; but most men, in trouble and alone, would turn to a friend if there were one at hand.
Marcello had none, and he felt horribly lonely in his great house, as the faces of two women rose before him, on the right and left.
But he was a man now, and as he sat there he determined to face the problem bravely and to solve it once and for ever by doing what was right, wheresoever he could convince himself that right lay, and without any regard for his own inclinations.
He told himself that this must be possible, because where right and wrong were concerned it was never possible to hesitate long.