is a looker-on. I don't know how he has managed to exchange the arena for the spectators' gallery, but he has. I think it is because he wants nothing for himself.
"As for Gordon, he is too ambitious to be happy. He is marrying partly to suit his mother, and partly to gratify his passion for being among the big-wigs, where of course, as Lord Ottway's son-in-law, he will be. But he doesn't know his Helen—yet. I think I do. Her chin is too long and her nose too high.
"Oh, the joy of wanting nothing! The joy of being eighty and immune! But I, even I, have one wish. And that is to see you, my old friend, again. But it is a pleasant want, like a hunger that is soon to be satisfied. For I feel I cannot lose you. Here, or there—what does it matter? I imagine you wince at that, foolish old Stephen!
"Write to me soon. I do hope you are better.
"Yours,
"Claire."
