Some part of his earlier life seemed stirred up in the man.

The one selfishness permitted to rank as a virtue in his sex was alive.

His heart had ceased to throb with the loiterers, the flotsam and jetsam of the gutters.

For the moment he was cast loose from the absorbed and serious side of his career.

A curious wave of sentiment had enveloped him, a wave of sentiment unanalysable and as yet impersonal; he walked as a man in a dream.