My wallet--or my knapsack--is packed, and ready for strapping on; and here is my staff!' He hands it to her; she makes the same remark as Mr.Crisparkle, that it is very heavy; and gives it back to him, asking what wood it is?
Iron-wood.
Up to this point he has been extremely cheerful.

Perhaps, the having to carry his case with her, and therefore to present it in its brightest aspect, has roused his spirits.

Perhaps, the having done so with success, is followed by a revulsion.

As the day closes in, and the city-lights begin to spring up before them, he grows depressed.
'I wish I were not going to this dinner, Helena.' 'Dear Neville, is it worth while to care much about it?
Think how soon it will be over.' 'How soon it will be over!' he repeats gloomily.

'Yes.