Foljambe and the lawyer are gone, and I am alone with Harker, whose stupidity is something marvellous.

I am dying by inches of this dismal state of things.

I can't tell the man to go, you see, for he is really a most worthy creature, although such a consummate fool.

For pity's sake come to me.

You can do your literary work down here as well as in London, and I promise to respect your laborious hours .-- Ever yours, "DAVID FORSTER." John Saltram stood with this letter open in his hand, staring blankly at it, like a man lost in a dream.
"Go back!" he muttered at last--"go back, when I thought I did such a great thing in coming away! No, I am not weak enough for that folly.".