over--no tendency to inventory or appraise. He sat down beside me on the
couch just as if he had no notion that it was a bed (and a rather rocky
one, at that), and talked about my row of books, and about music and plays,
and about his own collection of curios--all in a quiet, contained way, yet
intent on me if not on my outfit. Well, it's pleasant to be considered for
what you are rather than for what you have (or for what few poor sticks
your landlady may have); and I rather liked his being here. Certainly he
was a change from my students, who sometimes seem to exclude better timber.

"Needless to say, he repeated his invitation, and last evening I shunted
Middle English (in which I have a lot to catch up) and walked round to him.
Very adequately and handsomely lodged. Really good bachelor quarters (I
hadn't known for certain whether he was married or not). A stockbroker of a
sort, I hear,--but not enough to hurt, I should guess. He has a library and
a sitting-room. Like me, he sleeps three-quarters, but he doesn't have to
sit on his bed in the daytime. And he has a bathrobe of just the sort I
shall have, when I can afford it. He has got together a lot of knick-knacks
and curios, but takes them lightly.

"'Sorry I've only one big arm-chair,' he said, handing me his cigarette-
case and settling me down in comfort; 'but I entertain very seldom. I
should like to be hospitable,' he went on; '--I really think it's in me;
but that's pretty much out of the question here. I have no chef, no
dining-room of my own, no ball-room, certainly.... Perhaps, before very
long, I shall have to make a change.'

"He asked me about Freeford, and I didn't realize until I was on my way
back that he had assumed my home town just as he had assumed my lodging.
Well, all right; I never resent a friendly interest. He sat in a less-easy
chair and blew his smoke-rings and wondered if I had been a small-town boy.