to a social gathering he comes limp and infirm of purpose; he feels
constrained to utter futile remarks with undue emphasis trailing into
incoherence; he is dreadful to behold.

I did not see him until the end of the second dance. He was in the
ante-room and presented a good example of protective colouring. He was
standing with his back to a dark screen, and his pale face and light
hair were indistinguishable against a background of flowers worked in
gold thread. His attitude as he tightly grasped his programme behind
him was that of a wounded dove at bay.

I signalled to him, but, although I was only a few feet away, he could
not see me. He had apparently also lost all power of movement. I took
him by the arm and led him to the buffet, and, although he never takes
alcohol, I felt justified in forcing some brandy between his lips.
This revived him a little, and he said in a well-modulated voice: "The
surface of the floor is excellent. It is rather warm and oppressive
(or cold and chilly). I adore dancing; it both exercises the body
and refreshes the mind; but unfortunately I have not had many
opportunities of indulging in the art."

I gave him some more brandy.

A little later he recognised me and smiled. I examined his programme
and found that he was engaged for the next dance to a girl who could
talk to anyone on any subject; I could see my wife's hand in the
arrangement. I explained the situation, piloted him to his partner
and stayed with them a while. She made several openings for him in the
conversation, which he immediately sealed up with monosyllables, and
when she allowed her fan to slip to the floor he stepped on it. She