Roman Emperor of the decadence.

We had a certain interest in each other, an interest of curiosity, for I
remember that he led the way almost at once into the inner drawing room in order
to be free to talk in some seclusion. After half an hour or so I asked him to
lunch next day at "The Cafe Royal", then the best restaurant in London.

At this time he was a superb talker, more brilliant than any I have ever heard
in England, but nothing like what he became later. His talk soon made me forget
his repellant physical peculiarities; indeed I soon lost sight of them so
completely that I have wondered since how I could have been so disagreeably
affected by them at first sight. There was an extraordinary physical vivacity
and geniality in the man, an extraordinary charm in his gaiety, and lightning-
quick intelligence. His enthusiasms, too, were infectious. Every mental
question interested him, especially if it had anything to do with art or
literature. His whole face lit up as he spoke and one saw nothing but his
soulful eyes, heard nothing but his musical tenor voice; he was indeed what the
French call a "charmeur".

In ten minutes I confessed to myself that I liked him, and his talk was
intensely quickening. He had something unexpected to say on almost every
subject. His mind was agile and powerful and he took a delight in using it.
He was well-read too, in several languages, especially in French, and his
excellent memory stood him in good stead. Even when he merely reproduced
what the great writers had said perfectly, he added a new colouring. And
already his characteristic humour was beginning to illumine every topic with
lambent flashes.

It was at our first lunch, I think, that he told me he had been asked by
Harper's to write a book of one hundred thousand words and offered a large sum