dy of
the season, he stared at the interrogation of the gum company. It
suddenly disappeared, however, and then he saw that, like the goblins
who chased the small boy who was lost, the business interests of New
York had assumed a violent interest in his personal habits. What
underwear did he buy? Did he know that Hot-door's shaving-soap was
used by 76 per cent. of the entire manhood of America? There was only
one place humanly conceivable where lingerie could be purchased; to
prove it, the illuminated signboard promptly showed a lady in a costume
usually confined to boudoirs. To equalise the immodesty of the sexes,
a near male neighbour, at a height of two hundred odd feet, did an
electrified turn by putting on and taking off a pair of
trousers-suspenders.

DO YOU CHEW SWORDSAFE'S GUM?

That was the question. What importance could a mere war have in
comparison with that? Blinking in the glare, Selwyn left the doorway
and made for Madison Avenue, where Van Derwater's rooms were.

The clocks were just striking nine when he reached the number he
wanted, and a negro servant led him upstairs. As Selwyn entered Van
Derwater rose from his chair and greeted him with a restrained
courtliness that was gentlemanly to a degree, but had an instantly
chilling effect on the visitor. It was the room the owner used for
lounging or reading, and the only light was the shaded one on the table.

Van Derwater had just passed thirty, but the premature thinness of his
hair in front, the listless droop of his heavy shoulders, and the
bluish pallor about his firm jaw contrived to make him appear older
than he was. There was a kindliness in the wrinkles about his eyes,
and his mouth, though solid, was not lacking in indications of
intuitive understanding. It was perhaps the formality of his bearing,
the stiffness of his body from the hips, that gave him the air of one
who belonged by right to a past and more ceremonious age.

Although Van Derwater encouraged his guest, after the exchange of
greetings, to talk of his voyage and its attendant experiences, Selwyn
was aware that he was placing a cold impersonal wall between them. His
old friend was interested, courteous, intellectually even cordial, but
Selwyn knew he was being kept at a distance. He forced the talk to old
intimacies--recalled the game when, together, they had crossed Yale's
line in the closing moments of the great Rugby match--brought back a
host of joint expe