“Do you know,” she said, “that every one is remarking how ill you look. The girl wished that she had come afoot, despite the knowledge that she would have suffered many inconveniences, accidental and intentional jostling, insolence and ribald jest. The rich, heavy food sat in her stomach like so many soft pebbles. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. Lives by his wits and gambling.
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