"
"Have you friends in London?" he asked.
"None! I tried living there when I first came back for a few weeks, but
it was impossible."
"You will be very lonely, surely. London is the loneliest of all great
cities."
"Why should I not make friends?"
"That is what I too asked myself years ago when I was articled there,"
he answered. "Yet it is not so easy as it sounds. Every one seems to
have their own little circle, and a solitary person remains so often
just outside. Yet if you have friends--and tastes--London is a
paradise. Oh, how fascinating I used to find it just at first--before
the chill came. You, too, will feel that. You will be content at first
to watch, to listen, to wonder! Every type of humanity passes before
you like the jumbled-up figures of a kaleidoscope. You are content even
to sit before a window in a back street--and listen. What a sound that
is--the roar of London, the voices of the street, the ceaseless hum, the
creaking of the great wheel of humanity as it goes round and round. And
then, perhaps, in a certain mood the undernote falls upon your ear, the
bitter, long-drawn-out cry of the hopeless and helpless.
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