"Because I have work to do here," retorts he, grimly. "Yet ever since I first set foot on this soil, contentment has gone from me. Abroad a man lives, here he exists. There, he carries his life in his hand, and trusts to his revolver rather than to the most learned of counsels, but here all is on another footing.",
"Yes. I'm not much," confesses Mr. Darling, blandly. "Others are more fortunate. I'm like 'the man in the street,' subject to all the winds of heaven. Why, it would almost tempt a man to stay away from home occasionally to know there was some one longing for his return. It would positively encourage him to dine out whenever he got the chance.",
He follows her, full of remorse and contrition. Her glance, even more than her words, has covered him with shame, and cured him of his want of generosity..
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