But was it money that had tempted him to turn from a purpose so resolutely formed?
Had not Witherspoon's argument and Ellen's persuasion left him determined to reserve one refuge for his mind--one closet wherein he could hang the cast-off garment of real self?
Then it was the appeal of that gentle woman whom he called mother; it was not money.

But after yielding to the mother he had found himself without a prop, and at last he had felt a contempt for a moderate income and had boasted to himself that he could buy a man.

And for this he reproached himself.

How grim was that something known as fate, how mockingly did it play with the children of men, and in that mockery how cold a justice! But he should be free, and that thought thrilled him.
In the afternoon he went over to the North Side, and along a modest street he walked, looking at the houses as if hunting for a number.

He went up a short flight of wooden steps and rang the bell of the second flat.