He had a thousand things to tell me. They chiefly consisted in a
reiteration of the statement that he had been a rampant and unimagined
silly ass, and that Maisie, who knew the whole lunatic story, was a
brick, and a million times too good for him. When he entered my humble
lodging he looked round in a bewildered manner.
"Why on earth are you living in this mouse-trap?"
"Agatha calls it a pill-box. I call it a bird-cage. I live here, my dear
boy, because it is the utmost I can afford."
"Rot! I've been your private secretary and know what your income is."
I sighed heavily. I shall have to get a leaflet printed setting out the
causes that led to my change of fortune. Then I can hand it to such of
my friends as manifest surprise.
Indeed, I had grown so used to the story of my lamentable pursuit of
the eumoirous that I rattled it off mechanically after the manner of the
sturdy beggar telling his mendacious tale of undeserved misfortune. To
Dale, however, it was fresh. He listened to it open-eyed.
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