He had cursed the temper of his blood; he had raved at himself for vulgar gratifications; and once more the struggle was renewed.

Asceticism in diet had failed him doubly; it reduced his power of wholesome exertion, and caused a mental languor treacherous to his chief purpose.

Nowadays he ate and drank like any other of the sons of men, on the whole to his plain advantage.
A day or two after receiving a letter from Mrs.Hannaford, in which she told him of her removal to Dr.Derwent's house, he bade farewell to his father.
To his hotel in London, that night, came a note he had expected.

Mrs.
Hannaford asked him to call in Bryanston Square at eleven the next morning.
As he approached the house, memories shamed him.

How he had slunk about the square under his umbrella; how he had turned away in black despair after that "Not at home"; his foolish long-tailed coat, his glistening stovepipe! To-day, with scarce a thought for his dress, he looked merely what he was: an educated man, of average physique, of intelligent visage, of easy bearing.