and he
betook himself would forever be haunted by the phantom of the elf. . . .
It was just as well he had gone, said Barbara.

A man of intense appetites and primitive passions, like Jaffery, for all
his loyalty and lovable childishness, was better away from the
neighbour's wife who had happened to engage his affections. If he lost
his head. . . .

I had once seen Jaffery lose his head and the spectacle did not make for
edification. It was before I was married, when Jaffery, during his
London sojourn, had the spare bedroom in a set of rooms I rented in
Tavistock Square. At a florist's hard by, a young flower seller--a hussy
if ever there was one--but bewitchingly pretty--carried on her poetical
avocation; and of her did my hulking and then susceptible friend become
ragingly enamoured. I repeat, she was a hussy. She had no intention of
giving him more than the tip of her pretty little shoe to kiss; but
Jaffery, reading the promise of secular paradise in her eyes, had no
notion of her little hard intention. He squandered himself upon her and
she led him a dog's life. Of course I remonstrated, argued, implored. It
was like asking a hurricane politely not to blow. Her name I remember
was Gwenny. One summer evening she had promised to meet him outside the
house in Tavistock Square--he had arranged to take her to some Earl's
Court Exhibition, where she could satiate a depraved passion for
switch-backs, water-chutes and scenic railways. At the appointed hour
Jaffery stood in waiting on the pavement. I sat on the first floor
balcony, alternately reading a novel and watching him with a sardonic
eye. Presently Gwenny turned the corner of the square--our house was a
few doors up--and she appeared, on the opposite side of the road, by the
square railings. But Gwenny was not alone. Gwenny, rigged out in the
height of Bloomsbury florists' fashion, was ostentatiously accompanied
by a young man, a very scrubby, pallid, ignoble young man; his arm was
round her waist, and her arm was around his, in the approved enlinkment
of couples in her class who are keeping company, or, in other words,
are, or are about to be, engaged to be married. A curious shock vibrated
through Jaffery's frame. He flamed red. He saw red. Gwenny shot a
supercilious glance and tossed her chin. Jaffery crossed the road and
barred their path. He fished in his pocket for some coins and addressed
the scrubby man, who, poor wretch, had never heard of Jaffery's
existe