till I take my departure for a newer world than any patched-up
newness of ours. It's an odd feeling--I rather like it! What
should I do at home?"

"You said just now you were homesick."

"I meant I was sick for a home. Don't I belong here? Haven't I
longed to get here all my life? Haven't I counted the months and
the years till I should be able to 'go' as we say? And now that
I've 'gone,' that is that I've come, must I just back out? No,
no, I'll move on. I'm much obliged to you for your offer. I've
enough money for the present. I've about my person some forty
pounds' worth of British gold, and the same amount, say, of the
toughness of the heaven-sent idiot. They'll see me through
together! After they're gone I shall lay my head in some English
churchyard, beside some ivied tower, beneath an old gnarled black
yew."

I had so far distinctly followed the dialogue; but at this point
the landlord entered and, begging my pardon, would suggest that
number 12, a most superior apartment, having now been vacated, it
would give him pleasure if I would look in. I declined to look
in, but agreed for number 12 at a venture and gave myself again,
with dissimulation, to my friends. They had got up; Simmons had
put on his overcoat; he stood polishing his rusty black hat with
his napkin. "Do you mean to go down to the place?" he asked.

"Possibly. I've thought of it so often that I should like to see
it."