"I don't want to go alone."
"I would far rather be alone than not have the exactly right companion—some one who could think and feel with me, and in the sort of way I feel. Any other companionship is destructive."
Isaacson spoke with less than his usual self-possession, and there were traces of heat in his manner.
"Don't you agree with me?" he added, as Nigel did not speak.
"People can learn to feel alike."
"You mean that when two natures come together, the stronger eventually dominates the weaker. I should not like to be dominated, nor should I like to dominate. I love mutual independence combined with perfect sympathy."
Even while he was speaking, he was struck by his own exigence, and laughed, almost ironically.
"But where to find it!" he exclaimed. "Those are right who put up with less. But you—I think you want more than I do, in a way."
He added that lessening clause, remembering, quite simply, how much more brilliant he was than Nigel.
"I like to give to people who don't expect it," Nigel said. "How hateful the Circus is!"