dreary perspective of a hopeless future, Baxter, blasted by the Haunting
Spectre of the Might Have Been;--I'll trouble you to push the cigarettes
a little nearer."

"And now, sir," said Baxter, as he rose to strike, and apply the
necessary match, "what suit will you wear to-day?"

"Something in tweeds."

"Tweeds, sir! surely you forget your appointment with the Lady Cecily
Prynne, and her party? Lord Mountclair had me on the telephone,
last night--"

"Also a good, heavy walking-stick, Baxter, and a knap-sack."

"A knap-sack, sir?"

"I shall set out on a walking tour--in an hour's time."

"Certainly, sir,--where to, sir?"

"I haven't the least idea, Baxter, but I'm going--in an hour. On the
whole, of the four courses you describe for one whose life is blighted,
whose heart,--I say whose heart, Baxter, is broken,--utterly smashed,
and--er--shivered beyond repair, I prefer to disappear--in an
hour, Baxter."

"Shall you drive the touring car, sir, or the new racer?"

"I shall walk, Baxter, alone,--in an hour."