The young people opposite him were insufferably dull.

Apparently they had never met each other before and were at a loss to make conversation to suit the occasion.
Accordingly, they listened intently to the string band while the young man smoked a long cigar, and in the natural course of things, they applauded after each piece to show that they had heard it.

Traill bolted his meal, glad to leave them.
He came out of the restaurant and thanked God--filling his lungs with it--for the clean air.

Then he stood on the pavement contemplating the next move.

Should he go back to his rooms, read--smoke--fall asleep?
Should he turn into a music-hall?
When you live alone, the greatest issues of life sometimes resolve themselves into such questions as these.
Finally, scarcely conscious of arriving at any definite decision, he walked slowly back across the Circus in the direction of Lower Regent Street.
Over by the Criterion he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, hurrying; then his Christian name in a woman's voice.