OFfSPECIALISED CONVERSATION 181 



able from anybody else. At this moment, however, 

 he had a very unusual kind of appearance. 



"The dinner," said Derry, "is on me. Thorns 

 dines with us." 



I did not want to dine with Thorns, but I could 

 not say so ; not, at least, while I was in the very 

 act of shaking Thorns by the hand. I wished 

 to dine with Derry on food carefully chosen by 

 myself, and sit far into the night discoursing with 

 Derry of our past lives, where they had touched, 

 and of the people that we knew. The presence 

 of Thorns must make all this impossible. It 

 must impose a strictly impersonal tone upon our 

 conversation. Well, I can enjoy impersonal talk 

 much as anyone. Thorns had an intelligent 

 face. And the poor devil was alone, save for us, 

 on this his first night in London, after an age of 

 exile. Resolved to get Derry to myself at an early 

 date, I accepted the situation. 



We passed to a gilded, blatant place where they 

 serve a table d'hote dinner and have a band. Such 

 was Derry's choice. As he named it to the cab- 

 man I thought of the peaceful, silent isolation- 

 ward in which my club dines its guests, and I 

 sighed. 



In the cab Derry and Thorns continued the 

 conversation which I had interrupted. They con- 

 tinued it further in the restaurant. 



