ine, until I was swept, I
thought for ever, out of your path by a torrential spate of whisky."

He laughed, as though it had been a playful freak of destiny. Doggie
laughed, too. But for the words he had addressed to hotel and
lodging-house folk, he had spoken to no one for over a fortnight. The
instinctive craving for companionship made Phineas suddenly welcome.

"Yes. Let us have a talk," said he. "Come to my rooms, if you have the
time. There'll be some dinner."

"Will I come? Will I have dinner? Will I re-enter once more the
paradise of the affluent? Laddie, I will."

In the Strand they hailed a taxi and drove to Bloomsbury. On the way
Phineas asked:

"You mentioned your rooms. Are you residing permanently in London?"

"Yes," said Doggie.

"And Durdlebury?"

"I'm not going back."

"London's a place full of temptations for those without experience,"
Phineas observed sagely.

"I've not noticed any," Doggie replied. On which Phineas laughed and
slapped him on the knee.

"Man," said he, "when I first saw you I thought you had changed into a
disillusioned misanthropist. But I'm wrong. You haven't changed a
bit."

A few minutes later they reached Woburn Place. Doggie showed him into
the sitting-room on the drawing-room floor. A fire was burning in the
grate, for though it was only early autumn, the evening was cold. The
table was set for Doggie's dinner. Phineas looked round him in
surprise. The heterogeneous and tasteless furniture, the dreadful
Mid-Victorian prints on the walls--one was the "Return of the Guards
from the Crimea," representing the landing from the troop-ship,
repellent in its smug unreality, the coarse glass and well-used plate
on the table, the crumpled napkin in a ring (for Marmaduke who in his
mother's house had never been taught to dream that a napkin could
possibly be used for two consecutive meals!), the general air of
slipshod Philistinism--all came as a shock to Phineas, who had
expected to find in Marmaduke's "rooms" a replica of the fastidious
prettiness of the peacock and ivory room at Denby Hall. He scratched
his head, covered with a thick brown thatch.

"Laddie," said he gravely, "you must excuse me if I take a liberty;
but I canna fit you into this environment."

Doggie looked about him also. "Seems funny, doesn't it?"

"It cannot be that you've come down in the world?"

"To bed-rock," said Doggie.

"No?" said Phineas, with an air of concern. "Man, I'm awful sorry. I