They walked slowly to the area gate and Grismer unlocked it.
"I'm glad you came," he said. "It's a bit lonely sometimes.... I have no friends."
"When you feel that way," said Cleland, "drop in on me."
"Thanks."
And that was all. Cleland went away through the ill-smelling streets, crossed the sunny square, and walked thoughtfully back to his own studio.
"He's a strange man," he mused, "—he was a strange boy, and he's grown into a curious sort of man.... Poor devil.... It's as though something inside him is lacking—or has been killed.... But why in God's name did Steve marry him unless she was in love with him? ... It must be.... And his pride won't let him take her until he can stand on his own feet.... When I dig that pool I'll dig a pit for my feet.... A grave for a fool...."
He unlocked his studio and went in.
"I'm done with love," he said aloud to himself.
The jingle of the telephone bell echoed his words and he walked slowly over to the table and detached the receiver.
"Jim?"