These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. ’ ‘Ah, but why remain penniless? After all, your grandfather Charvill—’ ‘Again with the grandfather? Mon ami, if you imagine that this grandfather will welcome a daughter of Nicholas Charvill, whom he has never forgiven that he married a Frenchwoman, then you have an imagination entirely wrong. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless cruelty to give her a push toward it. No offence, I hope. “Never mind, old chap,” he declared. “Pump, pump, per-um-pump, Pum, Pump, Per-um. I am having them to my own soirée on Monday. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain.
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