It comes and goes, I'm told.

Had it been a man, I should have been jealous." There was little sympathy in that for my sore heart, so I said no more.
"Come," said he presently, "you shall come to my guardian's.

He lives at Richmond, and it is on our way to London.

If he turn me off, you shall take me to London, and make a printer of me, if you please." I agreed to this, and we stepped out on our journey.
A strange journey it was.

My comrade, for the most part, stalked silently half a pace in front of me, sometimes, it seemed to me, heedless of my presence, and sometimes as if troubled by it.