He was becoming fidgety, she decided,--old people were really very trying! Suddenly, with the air of a man arriving at an important decision, he sat down again in the armchair opposite her own, and leaning indolently back against the cushion, surveyed her with a calm, critical, entirely businesslike manner, much as he would have looked at a Jew company-promoter, who sought his aid to float a "bogus" scheme.
"It's not pleasant to live without plenty of money, you think," he said, repeating her last words slowly.

"Well! The pleasantest time of my life was when I did not own a penny in the bank, and when I had to be very sharp in order to earn enough for my day's dinner.

There was a zest, a delight, a fine glory in the mere effort to live that brought out the strength of every quality I possessed.

I learned to know myself, which is a farther reaching wisdom than is found in knowing others.

I had ideals then,--and--old as I am, I have them still." He paused.