"Not of your ability, surely?"

"Yes, of that, too," he said, with his sad smile. "I always feel that
I'm not doing justice to my idea."

"You are too stern a critic, believe me."

"It is very kind of you to say that. You are very kind altogether.
Had I known that you were so essentially a man of the world, in the best
sense of that term, I shouldn't have so much dreaded seeing you just now
and having to confess to you. But I'm not going to take advantage of
your urbanity and your easy-going ways. I hope that some day we may
meet somewhere when I haven't had influenza and am a not wholly
undesirable acquaintance. As it is, I refuse to let you associate with me.
I am an older man than you, and so I may without impertinence warn you
against having anything to do with me."

I deprecated this advice, of course; but for a man of weakened will
he showed great firmness.

"You," he said, "in your heart of hearts, don't want to have to walk
and talk continually with a person who might at any moment try to
bamboozle you with some ridiculous tale. And I, for my part, don't want
to degrade myself by trying to bamboozle any one, especially one whom I
have taught to see through me. Let the two talks we have had be as
though they had not been. Let us bow to each other, as last year, but let
that be all. Let us follow in all things the precedent of last year."

With a smile that was almost gay he turned on his heel, and moved