the incorrectness of his
attire, and the staircase was blocked, to a timid man, by elegant
couples apparently engaged in the act of flirtation. He turned, through
a group of attendant waiters, into the passage leading to the small
smoking-room which adjoined the discreetly situated bar. This
smoking-room, like a club, warm and bright, was empty, but in passing he
had caught sight of two mutually affectionate dandies drinking at the
splendid mahogany of the bar. He lit a cigarette. Seated in the
smoking-room he could hear their conversation; he was forced to hear it.

"I'm really a very quiet man, old chap, very quiet," said one, with a
wavering drawl, "but when they get at me-- I was at the Club at one
o'clock. I wasn't drunk, but I had a top on."

"You were just gay and cheerful," the other flatteringly and soothingly
suggested, in an exactly similar wavering drawl.

"Yes. I felt as if I wanted to go out somewhere and have another drink.
So I went to Willis's Rooms. I was in evening-dress. You know you
have to get a domino for those things. Then, of course, you're a mark
at once. I also got a nose. A girl snatched it off me. I told her
what I thought of her, and I got another nose. Then five fellows tried
to snatch my domino off me. Then I did get angry. I landed out with my
right at the nearest chap--right on his heart. Not his face. His
heart. I lowered him. He asked me afterwards, `Was that your right?'
`Yes,' I said, `and my left's worse!' I couldn't use my left because
they were holding it. You see? You see?"

"Yes," said the other impatiently, and suddenly cantankerous. "I see
that all right! Damned awful rot those Willis's Rooms affairs are
getting, if you ask me!"

"Asses!" Edwin exploded within himself. "Idiots!" He could not
tolerate their crassness. He had a hot prejudice against them because
they were not as near the core of life as he was himself. It appeared
to him that most people died without having lived. Willis's Rooms!
Girls! Nose! Heart! ... Asses!

He surged again out of the small room, desolating the bar with one
scornful glance as he went by. He braved the staircase, leaving those
scenes of drivelling festivity. In his bedroom, with the wind crashing
against the window, he regarded meditatively the parcel. After all, if
she had meant to have nothing to do with him, she would not have charged
him with the parcel. The parcel was a solid fact. The more he