n. In time he came to a halt before a dilapidated little
cabinet partly full of the shiny tools of his trade. The cabinet seemed
quite out of place in the tall state chamber: but then so did the man.
He did not look in the least like a doctor (just as Miss Heth had said).
The faint scent of iodoform that he now gave off was a heterogeneity,
like a whiff of brandy on a parson.

The young man stood gazing into his cabinet, fathoms deep in thought.
That Miss Heth was responsible for a meaningless lie which took away
more than life itself from one who had loved her truly in his way: this
was a hypothesis so wild and weak that it collapsed at the first
opportunity for calm, just examination. The sight of her again, the
other night, had merely clinched the matter; driven by a glance the last
nail in the coffin of Dalhousie's hope; and by the same stroke, swept
away the last lingering trace of diabolical suspicion. But that Miss
Heth had treated Dal pretty badly before the Beach was only too
probable. The boy's bitter complainings had left small doubt of that.

It is a world in which we must be just before we are generous.
Unfortunately, there could be little question that this girl with the
heavenly face had a certain touch--should we say?--of earthy hardness in
her, a certain induration of the spirit. She had shown it quite plainly
in her general attitude toward Dal in the hour of his need. She had
shown it again, in a sort of way, in her attitude toward the Works.

Not, indeed, in her resentment at his letter. Anything but resentment
there would have been unnatural, not to say inhuman and despisable, in a
daughter. Of course no girl worth a pinch of salt would allow you to
stand up and say that her father was a shameless homicide. Her anger
there did her the greatest credit: showed beyond doubt that she was
absolutely sound at heart.... Trouble was, of course, that she didn't
know anything about the Works, and didn't want to know. She supposed
that those scores of girls who went daily to her father's bunching-room
had nothing to do with her.

The night was cold; V. Vivian stood warming his hands over a second-hand
gas-stove, which leaked perceptibly.... Great heavens, how could it
possibly be otherwise? Was not this the way of all the world? Let a
little prosperity come to a poor peasant, and the first thing he did was
to stop eating five from the same bowl. That was Tolstoy; and that was
the way, through all peoples and