Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. One of the sampans was hailed, and a ropeladder was lowered. An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell. “You’re just a boy! You grow moody and spellbound, John, and the next moment you are ecstatic. Well, come back in half an hour. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. I went to her rooms to-night. ‘And you mean this? Truly?’ ‘Entirely.
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