"I could not go to bed till I had seen you."
"Why not? why should you want to see me? I'll go to bed now. There'll be plenty of time by-and-bye."
"Is anything the matter, Felix?"
"Matter;—what should be the matter? There's been a gentle row among the fellows at the club;—that's all. I had to tell Grasslough a bit of my mind, and he didn't like it. I didn't mean that he should."
"There is not going to be any fighting, Felix?"
"What, duelling; oh no,—nothing so exciting as that. Whether somebody may not have to kick somebody is more than I can say at present. You must let me go to bed now, for I am about used up."
"What did Marie Melmotte say to you?"
"Nothing particular." And he stood with his hand on the door as he answered her.
"And what did you say to her?"
"Nothing particular. Good heavens, mother, do you think that a man is in a condition to talk about such stuff as that at eight o'clock in the morning, when he has been up all night?"