As soon as the taxi had rolled away, they descended and passed into the street.
Then the professor suddenly changed his tone.
"Mr.Tavernake," he said, "I know what you are thinking about me: I am a weak old man who drinks too much and who wasn't born altogether honest.
I can't give up anything.

I'd be happier, really happier, on a crust with Beatrice, but I daren't, I simply daren't try it.

I prefer the flesh pots with Elizabeth, and you despise me for it.

I don't blame you, Mr.Tavernake, but listen." "Well ?" Tavernake interjected.
The professor's fingers gripped his arm.
"You've known Beatrice longer--you don't know Elizabeth very well, but let me tell you this.

Elizabeth is a very wonderful person.