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I did not go to bed; but, passed the weary morning hours in walking up and down my room, chewing the bitter cud of hopeless fancy, and in a state of excitement almost approaching to madness. At last, the time arrived for me to start to town to my office.
The youth did likewise, and at the beginning of the Kilburn High Street I descended, making my way up that dreary road. I began to despair of ridding myself of my pursuer. I was miles out of my way, the hours were passing, and he still dogged my steps. I trudged along, weary and worried, weighed down with the responsibility of my position.
When Marc Antony, after the battle of Actium, defied him to single combat, his answer to the messenger who brought it was, "Tell Marc Antony, if he be weary of life, there are other ways to end it; I shall not take the trouble of becoming his executioner."
'These two days of comparative peace have quite set me on my legs again. I was getting worn and weary with anxiety and work. As usual I have been delighted with my shipwrights. I gave them some beer on Saturday, making a short oration.
Trafford yet stood apart from them with his eyes looking into the dense night, and Hagar, all muffled in her great cloak, swayed slowly to and fro with her face hidden. Oh, the suspense and agony of those minutes! the weary watching and waiting for what? It came at last.
She worked about the room until Drouet put in appearance at five o'clock. The drummer was flushed and excited and full of determination to know all about her relations with Hurstwood. Nevertheless, after going over the subject in his mind the livelong day, he was rather weary of it and wished it over with. He did not foresee serious consequences of any sort, and yet he rather hesitated to begin.
In the midst of her chatter she became suddenly silent, and one might have been excused for supposing that her mind was weary; but that, in truth, was the moment when she really roused herself, and began to follow the conversation with close attention.
"If the future life is so weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable as we might infer from these readings, one would have reason to deplore an immortality from which no suicide could give an outlet. To be condemned to such eternal prosing would be worse than annihilation. "Is there, then, no satisfaction for this craving of the soul?
I inquired, one forenoon, when she had neatly arranged the tray containing my chop, wine, etc., by my chair. "Five-and-fifty, love, come September," said Nurse Bundle. "Do people ever marry when they are five-and-fifty, papa?" I asked that evening, as I lay languid and weary on the sofa. "Yes, my dear boy, sometimes. But why do you want to know?"
She could hear the deeper voices of the gentlemen, as they stamped and shook the snow off their hats and great-coats in the hall. She listened and looked out again at the wintry twilight. "Oh!" she thought, with weary sadness, "what happy people there are in the world! Women who love and are beloved, who have everything their hearts desire home, and friends, and youth, and hope, and happiness.
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