I was a lonely man, and they were very kind to me.  I was a lonely
man and a sad one, and they bore with me.  I remained with them four
days after my recovery.  All that time I felt a vague, a growing
craving to look once more on whatever remained of the little life that
seemed so happy and bright in my past.  It was a mere hopeless desire
to feast upon my misery.  They dissuaded me.  They did all they could
to divert me from this morbidity.  But at last I could resist the
impulse no longer, and, promising faithfully to return to them, and
parting, as I will confess, from these four-day friends with tears, I
went out again into the streets that had lately been so dark and
strange and empty.