“What’s the matter with him?” he heard the maid’s voice, as their footsteps trailed off down the corridor, and the tears trailed down the inside of his nose. The page answered disgustedly, “A madman, I suppose.” After a short pause, the maid’s voice floated back faintly, “Well, he’ll fit right in here, then, won’t he…”
A madman, I suppose
Well, then he'll fit right in
