As for patience--they'd have pitched us over the cliffs the first day we lit among 'em, if they hadn't that." "There are no--distractions," he grumbled.

"Nowhere a man can go and cut loose a bit.

It's an everlasting parlor and nursery." "And workshop," I added.

"And school, and office, and laboratory, and studio, and theater, and--home." "HOME!" he sneered.

"There isn't a home in the whole pitiful place." "There isn't anything else, and you know it," Jeff retorted hotly.