oothing discourse which led nowhere at first
but ended finally in a re-order for four hot Scotches.

Then Dumont's witty French blood--or the muddied dregs which were left
of it--began to be perversely amusing at Quest's expense. Epigrams
slightly frayed, a jest or two a trifle stale, humorous inversions of
well-known maxims, a biting retort, the originality of which was not
entirely free from suspicion, were his contributions to the festivities.

Later Kelter's nicely modulated voice and almost affectionate manner
restrained Quest from hurling his glass at the inflamed countenance of
Mr. Dumont. But it did not prevent him from leaving the room in a
vicious temper, and, ultimately, the Cataract Club.

The early winter night had turned cold and clear; sidewalks glittered,
sheeted with ice. He inhaled a deep breath and expelled a reeking one,
hailed a cab, and drove to the railroad station.

Here he bought his tickets, choosing a midnight train; for the journey
to Mulqueen's was not a very long one; he could sleep till seven in the
car; and, besides, he had his luggage to collect from the hotel he had
been casually inhabiting. Also he had not yet dined.

Bodily he felt better, now that the vichy had been "killed"; mentally
his temper became more vicious than ever as he thought of Dumont's
blunted wit at his expense--a wit with edge enough left to make a
ragged, nasty wound.

"He'll get what's coming to him some day," snarled Quest, returning to
his cab; and he bade the driver take him to the Amphitheatre, a
restaurant resort, wonderful in terra-cotta rocks, papier-mache grottos,
and Croton waterfalls--haunted of certain semi-distinguished pushers of
polite professions, among whom he had been known for years.

The place was one vast eruption of tiny electric lights, and the lights
of "the profession," and the demi-monde. Virtue and its antithesis
disguised alike in silk attire and pearl collars, rubbed elbows
unconcernedly among the papier-mache grottos; the cascades foamed with
municipal water, waiters sweated and scurried, lights winked and
glimmered, and the music and electric fans annoyed nobody.

In its usual grotto Quest found the usual group, was welcomed
automatically, sat down at one of the tables, and gave his order.

Artists, newspaper men, critics, and writers predominated. There was
also a "journalist" doing "brilliant" space work on the _Sun_. He had
been doing it nearly a month and he was only twent