What was this world of intrigue, this criminal, undesirable world, to him?
His common sense forbade him altogether to dissociate Elizabeth from her friends, from her surroundings.

She was the secret of the pain which was tearing at his heartstrings, of all the excitement, the joy, the passion which had swept like a full flood across the level way of his life, which had set him drifting among the unknown seas.

Yet it was Beatrice who had brought this upon him.

If she had never left, if he had not tasted the horrors of this new loneliness, he might have been able to struggle on.

He missed her, missed her diabolically.