which I had written in my
books; but he did not appear to have any such wish. He had lately taken
a house himself in the country; and he appeared to wish to tell me
about that. I was delighted to hear about it, because I am always
interested to hear how other people live; but I began to be surprised
when I discovered that this seemed to be the only thing he wished to
talk about. He described the house, the garden, the village, the
neighbours; he described his mode of life, his parties, the things he
said to other people, the visits he paid. I became a mute listener.
Occasionally I assented or asked a question; but if I attempted to
contribute to the conversation he became restive and bored; so I merely
let him have his head, and he talked on. I will confess that I derived
a good deal of entertainment from my companion, for he was a shrewd and
observant man. I do not think I ever learnt so much about an entire
stranger in so short a time. I even knew what he had for breakfast and
what he drank with his luncheon. When we said goodbye at the station,
he said that he had spent a very pleasant day, and I am sure it was the
truth; he pressed me to visit him with much cordiality, and said that
it had given him great pleasure to make my acquaintance; we bowed and
smiled and waved our hands, and the train moved out of the station.

The surprising thing is that it never seemed to occur to him that he
had not made my acquaintance at all. He had seen my house, indeed, but
every detail that he observed had suggested to him some superior detail
in his own house. He had certainly allowed me to make his acquaintance,
but that had not been the professed object of his visit. He could not
have talked more obligingly if I had been an interviewer who had
desired to write his biography. I do not believe that it had ever
crossed his mind that the occasion had been anything but a complete
success. His enjoyment was evidently to converse, and he had conversed
unintermittently for several hours. The man was an egoist, of course,
but he had not talked exclusively about himself. Much of his talk had
been devoted to other people, but they were all of them the people whom
he saw in his own private mirror. I have no doubt that for the time
being I was a figure in his dreams, and that I shall be described with
the same minuteness to the unhappy recipients of his confidences who
are now awaiting him at dinner,--at which I may mention he always
drinks