monologue, not that he spoiled his wine by drinking excessively.

"We have several acquaintances in common," he said. "I met King Seti
a year ago in Thebes. I think he has altered very little since you knew
him. I thought his forehead a little low for a king's. Cheops has left the
house that he built for your reception, he must have prepared for you
for years and years. I suppose you have seldom been entertained like
that. I ordered this dinner over a week ago. I thought then that a lady
might have come with me, but as she wouldn't I've asked you. She may
not after all be as lovely as Helen of Troy. Was Helen very lovely? Not
when you knew her, perhaps. You were lucky in Cleopatra, you must
have known her when she was in her prime.

"You never knew the mermaids nor the fairies nor the lovely goddesses
of long ago, that's where we have the best of you."

He was silent when the waiters came to his table, but rambled merrily
on as soon as they left, still turned to the empty chair.

"You know I saw you here in London only the other day. You were
on a motor bus going down Ludgate Hill. It was going much too fast.
London is a good place. But I shall be glad enough to leave it. It was
in London that I met the lady I that was speaking about. If it hadn't
been for London I probably shouldn't have met her, and if it hadn't
been for London she probably wouldn't have had so much besides
me to amuse her. It cuts both ways."

He paused once to order coffee, gazing earnestly at the waiter and
putting a sovereign in his hand. "Don't let it be chicory," said he.