turning towards the ears; and when he lifted his tumbler one noticed
the little nails, almost worn away, of his lean hands.

At last Mr. Brookes said: "I daresay you would like a cigar, Berkins--
will you come into the billiard-room?"

Berkins inclined to this suggestion. Willy, who had not quite
finished, remained at table. The girls watched each other, and as soon
as the elderly men turned their backs they fled upstairs to their
rooms.

"Will you try one of these?" said Mr. Brookes, offering a box of
choice havannas.

"Thank you. My tobacconist--I must ask you to visit his shop--receives
just a few cases of a very special cigar; I have at least two-thirds
of them, sometimes more; when you dine with me I'll give you one. This
is Chartreuse, I think. My wine merchant knows a man whose cousin is
one of the monks. Now the monks set aside the very cream of the
liqueur, if I may so speak, for themselves. This liqueur cannot be
bought in the open market. You may go up to London prepared to write a
cheque for any figure you may like to name, and I will defy you to buy
a bottle. I never have any other. It is really quite delicious. I
daresay I could get you some."

Mr. Brookes expressed thanks for the amiable offer, and both men
smoked on in silence.

"Do you play billiards?"