‘This journey I do not like,’ she said more loudly. “Something. I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. The one through which she had come and Gosse had entered behind her. The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. ’ ‘You’re going?’ asked his friend, and the note of relief was marked. I am a pauper, and as yet I have not discovered how to earn money. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life.
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