"I want to have a talk with you." His heart thumped as he said that; he felt he had committed himself.
"Well, now, that's very pleasant," responded Mr.Dale.

"I was just thinking I should be alone half the way home." "But you would not be alone when you got there," Mr.Denner said meditatively; "now, with me it is different." "Oh, quite different,--quite different." "Yes," proceeded the other, "I have very little companionship.

I go home and sit in my library all by myself.

Sometimes, I get up and wander about the house, with only my cigar for company." "I suppose," said Mr.Dale, "that you can smoke wherever you want, in your house?
I often think of your loneliness; coming and going just as you please, quite independently." Mr.Denner gave him a sudden questioning look, and then appeared to reproach himself for having misunderstood his friend.
"Yes, just so,--just so.

I knew you would appreciate it; but you can never know from experience, Henry, how a man feels left quite to himself.
You do not think of the independence; it is the loneliness.