mportance in Jerry's scheme of things was diminishing with the
days. One afternoon just before the dinner hour I was reading Heminge
and Condell's remarkable preface to the "Instauratio Magna" of Bacon,
which advances the theory that the state of knowledge is not greatly
advancing and that a way must be opened for the human understanding
entirely different from any known. In the midst of my studies Jerry
rushed in, flushed with his long drive in the open air, and threw his
great arms around my neck, almost smothering me.

"Good old Dry-as-dust! Thought I'd surprise you. Glad to see me?
Anything to eat? By George! You're as yellow as a kite's foot. Been
reading yourself into a mummy, haven't you?"

It was good to see him. He seemed to bring the whole of outdoors in
with him.

I took him by the shoulders and held him off from me, laughing in pure
happiness.

"Well. What are you looking at? Expect to see my spots all changed?"

"I think you've actually grown."

"In four weeks? Rubbish! I think I've contracted. If there's anything
to make a fellow feel small it's rubbing elbows with four million
people. Good old Roger! Seems as if I'd been away for a lifetime. Then
again it seems as if I'd never been away at all, as if New York was
all a dream. Well, here I am, like Shadrach, past the fiery furnace
and not even scorched. It's a queer place--New York--full of queer
people, living on shelves, like the preserves in a pantry. Great
though! I'm getting to understand 'em a little, though they don't
understand me. I suppose I'm queer to them. Funny, isn't it? 'Old
fashioned,' a fellow called me the other day. I didn't know whether to
hit him or take him by the hand. I think he meant it as a compliment.
I had been polite, that's all. Most people don't understand you when
you say, 'Thank you' or 'Excuse me.' They just stare, and then dash
on. I used to wonder where they were all going and why they were
rushing. I don't now. I rush like the rest of 'em, even when I've got
nothing to do of a morning but to buy a new cravat. By Jove, I'm
rattling on. Is dinner ready?"

It was. We dined on Horsham Manor's simple fare, but Jerry ate it as
though he had never been away. And when dinner was over we adjourned
to the library and talked far into the night. I observed for one
thing, that he was now smoking cigarettes with perfect facility. I
made no comment, but could not help recalling the fact that it was in
this, too, that Eve had