old friend least liked.

"It's doubtless only a trifle," he returned, "but you haven't
happened to mention what his reputation's to rest on."

"Why on what I began by boring you with--his extraordinary mind."

"As exhibited in his writings?"

"Possibly in his writings, but certainly in his talk, which is far
and away the richest I ever listened to."

"And what's it all about?"

"My dear fellow, don't ask me! About everything!" I pursued,
reminding myself of poor Adelaide. "About his ideas of things," I
then more charitably added. "You must have heard him to know what
I mean--it's unlike anything that ever WAS heard." I coloured, I
admit, I overcharged a little, for such a picture was an
anticipation of Saltram's later development and still more of my
fuller acquaintance with him. However, I really expressed, a
little lyrically perhaps, my actual imagination of him when I
proceeded to declare that, in a cloud of tradition, of legend, he
might very well go down to posterity as the greatest of all great
talkers. Before we parted George Gravener had wondered why such a
row should be made about a chatterbox the more and why he should be
pampered and pensioned. The greater the wind-bag the greater the
calamity. Out of proportion to everything else on earth had come
to be this wagging of the tongue. We were drenched with talk--our
wretched age was dying of it. I differed from him here sincerely,