gentleman whose severity of manner I learned later to recognize as the
useful mask to a singularly genial and kindly nature.

Our interview was long and, to me at any rate, rather embarrassing,
since it resolved itself into a searching cross-examination by a past-
master in the art. Who were my parents? When and where had I been born?
Where had I been educated? What were my means of livelihood? What
positions had I filled since I went out into the world? What countries
had I visited? What books had I read? What books had I written? To what
magazines and reviews had I contributed? Who were my friends? Was I fond
of music, of painting, of the drama? Had I a sense of humor? Had I a
good temper or a good control of a bad one? What languages could I speak
or read? Did I enjoy good health? Was I of a nervous disposition? Had I
tact and discretion? Was I a good horseman, a good sailor, a good
talker, a good reader?

When it came to asking me whether I was a good horseman AND a good
sailor, I realized that anyone who expected to find these two qualities
combined in one man was quite capable of demanding that his companion-
secretary should be able to knit woollen socks, write devotional verse,
and compute the phases of the moon.

I remember chuckling to myself over this quaint conceit; I was to learn
later that it came unpleasantly near the truth.

Under this close examination I felt that I had made rather a poor
showing. This was due in some measure, no doubt, to the fact that my
questioner abruptly left any topic as soon as he discovered that I knew
something about it, and began to angle around, with disturbing success,
to find the things I did not know about.