She must be significant, after all, since this very admirable person--admirable, though ineligible--had found her so for so many years.

It was with a warming sense of restoration, almost of reconstruction, that she opened the letter, drew out the thickly-folded sheets of thin paper and began to read the neat, familiar writing.

He told her everything that he was doing and thinking, and about everything that interested him.

He wrote to her of kinetics and atoms as if she had been a fellow-student.

It was as if, helplessly, he felt the whole bulk of his outlook to be his only chance of interesting her, since no detail was likely to do so.