If the sun shone anywhere, there was no sign of it; and there was no sign of it either in the traveller's heart.

If fortune had asked him to play "even or odd," he could hardly have answered her.
He was leaving home.

_They_ did not know it, but he did.

It was the first step over home's threshold.

This little walk was the beginning of a long race, of which as yet he knew only the starting-point; and for love of that starting-point and for straitness of heart at turning his back upon it, he could have sat down under the fence and cried.