The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. It had evidently seen better days before being relegated to the ministrations of a hackney coachman, one who evidently served the less affluent inhabitants of London. So the talk went on. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. She wished to view Sebastian again if only to reaffirm that there was a human being whose appearance remained unaltered by the vagaries of time and memory. "My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance. He was now almost driven to despair. The room in which this interview took place had a sordid and miserable look. Anything that had love in it! The doctor comprehended that he also had his work cut out.
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