the rest of 'The Band'--had been lost. He must blow a certain horn
before it, in a certain way--you know how it goes, 'Dauntless the
slug-horn to my lips I set!' It's quite obvious when you know the
story, and not a bit of an enigma. The line in _Lear_ shows that the
verses must have been commonly sung in Shakespeare's time----"

The girl was looking at him with something like amazement; but her
answer referred to the matter of his discourse.

"Yes," said she, "I can see now how the 'Dark Tower' lightens up. I
must read it again in the light of this explanation of yours. Shall we
read it together, soon?"

"Oh, by all means!" said he. "Only I warn you I never tire when I find
any one who will study Browning with me. I tried to read _The Ring and
the Book_ with a dear friend once, and reading my favorite part,
'Giuseppe Caponsacchi,' as I raised my eyes after that heartbreaking
finale, 'O, great, just, good God! Miserable me!' I saw she was
dozing. Since then, I read Browning with his lovers only----"

"Yes, you are right in that. But, Eugene," she exclaimed, "you said to
me many times that his verse was rot, that Nordau ought to have
included him in his gallery of degenerates, that he is muddy, and that
there isn't a line of poetry in his works so far as you have been able
to dig into them. And you cited _Childe Roland_ as proof of all of
this! And you never would listen to any of Browning, even when we
almost quarreled about it! Now, if that was because---- Why, it
was----!"

She paused as if afraid she might say too much. Florian, who had
rallied in his literary enthusiasm, collapsed into his chronic state of
terror. Even in so impersonal a thing as Browning, the man who does
not know what his habits are takes every step at his peril.

"Oh, _that_ that I said!" he stammered. "Yes--yes. Well, there _are_
obscurities, you know. Even Mr. Birrell admits that. But on the
whole, don't you agree with me?"

"Quite," said she dryly; "if I understand you."

There was an implied doubt as to her understanding of his position, and
the only thing made clear was that the drawbridge was up again. So
Florian began talking of the plans. He grew eloquent on ventilators,
bath-rooms, and plumbing. He drew fine and learned distinctions
between styles.

"The colonial," said he, "is not good unless indulged in in great
moderation. Now, what I like about this is the way in which
ultra-colonialism is held in