given me,
and luckily you've come while there's a drop left. Very glad you have!
Very glad you have."

Here he poked a little table through the window, and put a bottle and
two glasses, one a tooth-glass, upon it. Then he withdrew again to
finish shaving. The waiter presently hobbled up with the syphon and
third glass. Argyle pushed his head through the window, that was only
a little higher than the balcony. He was soon neatly shaved, and was
brushing his hair.

"Go ahead, my boys, go ahead with that whiskey!" he said.

"We'll wait for you," said Lilly.

"No, no, don't think of it. However, if you will, I shall be one minute
only--one minute only. I'll put on the water for the tea now. Oh, damned
bad methylated spirit they sell now! And six francs a litre! Six francs
a litre! I don't know what I'm going to do, the air I breathe costs
money nowadays--Just one moment and I'll be with you! Just one moment--"

In a very little while he came from the tiny attic bedroom, through
the tiniest cupboard of a sitting-room under the eaves, where his
books were, and where he had hung his old red India tapestries--or silk
embroideries--and he emerged there up above the world on the loggia.

"Now then--_siamo nel paradiso_, eh? Paradisal enough for you, is it?"

"The devil looking over Lincoln," said Lilly laughing, glancing up into
Argyle's face.

"The devil looking over Florence would feel sad," said Argyle. "The
place is fast growing respectable--Oh, piety makes the devil chuckle.
But respectability, my boy, argues a serious diminution of spunk. And
when the spunk diminishes we-ell--it's enough to make the most sturdy
devil look sick. What? No doubt about it, no doubt whatever--There--!"
he had just finished settling his tie and buttoning his waistcoat. "How
do I look, eh? Presentable?--I've just had this suit turned. Clever
little tailor across the way there. But he charged me a hundred and
twenty francs." Argyle pulled a face, and made the little trumping noise
with his lips. "However--not bad, is it?--He had to let in a bit at the
back of the waistcoat, and a gusset, my boy, a gusset--in the trousers
back. Seems I've grown in the arsal region. Well, well, might do
worse.--Is it all right?"

Lilly eyed the suit.

"Very nice. Very nice indeed. Such a good cloth! That makes all the
difference."

"Oh, my dear fellow, all the difference! This suit is eleven years
old--eleven years old. But beautiful English cloth--befo