'I shall ask Mahbub Ali--not now, but some day later,' he muttered.

'I am pleased with you--yes; and I am pleased with you--no.

You are the first that ever saved himself.

I wish I knew what it was that ...

But you are right.
You should not tell that--not even to me.' He turned into the dusky gloom of the shop, and sat down at the table, rubbing his hands softly.