Hegropedbacktohischair，hischestlabouringashesatdown。
Maisiewatchedhim，andthefearwentoutofherheart，tobefollowedbyaverybittershameHehadspokenatruththathadbeenhiddenfromthegirlthrougheverystepoftheimpetuousflighttoLondon；forhewas，indeed，downanddonefor——masterfulnolongerbutratheralittleabject；
neitheranartiststrongerthanshe，noramantobelookedupto——onlysomeblindonethatsatinachairandseemedonthepointofcryingShewasimmenselyandunfeignedlysorryforhim——moresorrythanshehadeverbeenforanyoneinherlife，butnotsorryenoughtodenyhiswords。
Soshestoodstillandfeltashamedandalittlehurt，becauseshehadhonestlyintendedthatherjourneyshouldendtriumphantly；andnowshewasonlyfilledwithpitymoststartlinglydistinctfromlove。
’Well？’saidDick，hisfacesteadilyturnedaway’InevermeanttoworryyouanymoreWhat’sthematter？’