” “Only you won’t let me live. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. There are way-stations—even terminals. The thought of beauty became an obsession. And a time will come, Veronica, mark my words, a time will come when you will bless me for my firmness to-night. He can't play cards, either, when he's sober. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. You are afraid—that here in London—I shall not be a success. A single glance served to show the thief-taker how matters stood. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault.
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