nnection. In Capua everybody yawned their heads off. In Flanders and
Champagne they are shot off. Life swings like a pendulum between boredom
and pain. When the world is not anaemic, it is delirious. If ever again
its pulse registers normal, sensible people will go back to Epicurus,
whose existence was one long lesson in mental tranquillity. By the Lord
Harry, the more I consider it, the more convinced I become that there is
nothing else worth having. Niente, nada, rien. Nothing whatever."

Verelst smiled. "In that case it is hardly worth while getting excited
over it." He raised the lapel of his coat. There were violets in it. He
took a whiff and added: "Has Lennox been here to-day?"

But Jones did not know.

Regretfully, Verelst continued: "He goes to Mineola to-morrow and soon
he will be over the top."

Jones lit a cigarette. "Assuming that he gets back, the women will be
mad about him. Some of them at any rate."

Verelst rolled an enquiring eye.

"Of course they will," Jones resumed. "Times have changed precious
little since Victor Hugo.

'Les belles out le gout des heros. Le sabreur
Effroyable, trainant apres lui tant d'horreur
Qu'il ferait reculer jusqu'a la sombre Hecate,
Charme la plus timide et la plus delicate.
Sur ce, battez tambours! Ce qui plait a la bouche
De la blonde aux yeux doux, c'est le baiser farouche.
La femme se fait faire avec joie un enfant,
Par l'homme qui tua, sinistre et triomphant.
Et c'est la volupte de toutes ces colombes
D'ouvrir leur lit a ceux qui font ouvrir les tombes.'

"What rhythm! What music! The score is Napoleonic but----"

"Hello!" Verelst interrupted. Before the window a car had passed. He was
looking at it. On the back seat was a man in a high hat and an overcoat.
"M. P.!" he exclaimed.

"What of it?" Jones asked.

Verelst removed his glasses and looked distrustfully at them. It was as
though he doubted their vision. Then, after a moment he said: "Last
night I heard he was dying."

"Which," Jones remarked, "is the aim, the object and the purpose of
life. But apparently he has not achieved it yet. Apparently also you are
a futurist. The Napoleonic score did not interest you."

Verelst, resuming his glasses, replied: "It would not interest Lennox,
if that is what you mean. He has been hit too hard."

Jones nodded. He knew all about it. It had even suggested a story, a
famous story; one that was told in Babylon and has b