I'll be there for a while yet.

Good night," he said from the doorway.
"Good night," said Olivia.

"Good night--and, oh, I thank you." St.George's expectation of having a talk with the old man was, however, unfounded.

Old Malakh led the way to his room--a great place of carven seats and a frowning bed-canopy and high windows, and doors set deep in stone; and he begged St.George to sit down and permitted him to examine the sealed tube filled with little particles that looked like nickel, and spoke with gentle irrelevance the while.

At the last St.George left him, feeling as if he were committing not so much an indignity as a social solecism when he locked the door upon the lonely creature, using for the purpose a key-like implement chained to the lock without and having a ring about the size of the iron crown of the Lombards.
"Good night," old Malakh told him courteously, "good night.