“I would, only it’s so dull without it.⁠ ⁠… It’s chiefly from dullness. When one feels dull, one has a smoke. That’s where the mischief lies.⁠ ⁠… It’s dull! At times it’s so dull⁠ ⁠… so dull⁠ ⁠… so dull!” drawled he.

“The best remedy for that is to think of one’s soul.”

He threw a glance at me, and at once the expression of his face quite changed: instead of his former kindly, humorous, lively and talkative expression, he became attentive and serious.

“ ‘Think of the soul⁠ ⁠… of the soul,’ you say?” he asked, gazing questioningly into my eyes.

“Yes! When you think of the soul, you give up all foolish things.”

His face lit up affectionately.