I am only an unhappy man." The furrows in his face deepened, the latent humor died out of his eyes.
He turned to the summer-house window, and took up a pipe and tobacco pouch, left on the ledge.
"I lost my only friend last year," he said.

"Since the death of my dog, my pipe is the one companion I have left.

Naturally I am not allowed to enjoy the honest fellow's society in the presence of ladies.

They have their own taste in perfumes.

Their clothes and their letters reek with the foetid secretion of the musk deer.