ng to the leaf in his mental pocket-book
covered with the anecdotes, figures, and facts about that lady. "The old
ogre means," thought he, "that I'm lucky because his leaf is blank about
Antonia." But the old baronet had turned, with his smile, and his
sardonic, well-bred air, to listen to a bit of scandal on the other side.

The two men to Shelton's left were talking.

"What! You don't collect anything? How's that? Everybody collects
something. I should be lost without my pictures."

"No, I don't collect anything. Given it up; I was too awfully had over
my Walkers."

Shelton had expected a more lofty reason; he applied himself to the
Madeira in his glass. That, had been "collected" by his host, and its
price was going up! You couldn't get it every day; worth two guineas a
bottle! How precious the idea that other people couldn't get it, made it
seem! Liquid delight; the price was going up! Soon there would be none
left; immense! Absolutely no one, then, could drink it!

"Wish I had some of this," said the old baronet, "but I have drunk all
mine."

"Poor old chap!" thought Shelton; "after all, he's not a bad old boy. I
wish I had his pluck. His liver must be splendid."

The drawing-room was full of people playing a game concerned with horses
ridden by jockeys with the latest seat. And Shelton was compelled to
help in carrying on this sport till early in the morning. At last he
left, exhausted by his animation.

He thought of the wedding; he thought over his dinner and the wine that
he had drunk. His mood of satisfaction fizzled out. These people were
incapable of being real, even the smartest, even the most respectable;
they seemed to weigh their pleasures in the scales and to get the most
that could be gotten for their money.

Between the dark, safe houses stretching for miles and miles, his
thoughts were of Antonia; and as he reached his rooms he was overtaken by
the moment when the town is born again. The first new air had stolen
down; the sky was living, but not yet alight; the trees were quivering
faintly; no living creature stirred, and nothing spoke except his heart.
Suddenly the city seemed to breathe, and Shelton saw that he was not
alone; an unconsidered trifle with inferior boots was asleep upon his
doorstep.

CHAPTER X

AN ALIEN

The individual on the doorstep had fallen into slumber over his own
knees. No greater air of prosperity clung about him than is conveyed by