"Not the breadth of a hair between this and that.

And at the time.

.

." '"It is difficult to see a hair at midnight," I put in, a little viciously I fear.

Don't you see what I mean by the solidarity of the craft?
I was aggrieved against him, as though he had cheated me--me!--of a splendid opportunity to keep up the illusion of my beginnings, as though he had robbed our common life of the last spark of its glamour.
"And so you cleared out--at once." '"Jumped," he corrected me incisively.