"She said it would be 'difficult, and dangerous, perhaps,'" said he
to himself, "and indeed I think she was right."
Then he turned and went upon his way, heavy-footed and chin on breast.
On he went, plunged in gloomy abstraction, turning corners at random,
lost to all but the problem he had set himself, which was this: How he might save Ronald Barrymaine in spite of Ronald Barrymaine.