"Never got quite up to it," he returned. "Reached Cape Hakluyt
once."
"How did that impress you?" I asked.
"It didn't impress me," he replied.
The talk drifted to women and bogus companies, dogs, literature,
and such-like matters. I found him well informed upon and bored by
all.
"They used to be amusing," he said, speaking of the first named,
"until they began to take themselves seriously. Now they are
merely silly."
I was forced into closer companionship with "Blase Billy" that
autumn, for by chance a month later he and I found ourselves the
guests of the same delightful hostess, and I came to liking him
better. He was a useful man to have about one. In matters of
fashion one could always feel safe following his lead. One knew
that his necktie, his collar, his socks, if not the very newest
departure, were always correct; and upon social paths, as guide,
philosopher, and friend, he was invaluable. He knew every one,
together with his or her previous convictions. He was acquainted
with every woman's past, and shrewdly surmised every man's future.
He could point you out the coal-shed where the Countess of
Glenleman had gambolled in her days of innocence, and would take
you to breakfast at the coffee-shop off the Mile End Road where
"Sam.
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