that gave half his face an expression of engaging debauchery. Politics was no burden to him, and revolutionary conversation of the most alarming kind filled him with glee and encouraged him to celebrate with generous potations his possession of such noble aspirations.
âWeâre going to make a night of it, my boy,â he promised and, calling to his landlady, whispered with muted enthusiasm, âI may be drunk tonight, Mrs Dolphin.â
âWell, youâre only young once,â she answered, âand thereâs old sheets on the bed, so there wonât be much damage done though you forget to take your shoes off. Good-night, Mr Merriman. Weâll be seeing a lot of you, I suppose, and Mr Meiklejohn will be glad of your company, for thereâs too many gentlemen nowadays who think of nothing but dancing and golf, and havenât a head for politics or drinking.â
The Café de Bordeaux, where Meiklejohn took Magnus to dine, was in essence an oyster-bar. It had established itsreputation on excellent fare and sound vintages, and in a city where only railway hotels disputed with unimaginative restaurants for the privilege of catering to impercipient palates it had acquired a certain Bohemian flavour. Meiklejohn and his guest dined simply but well on oysters and a cold grouse, and having drunk some Chablis with the former, shared a bottle of claret with the latter. Their conversation ranged the world from India to America. Meiklejohn spoke with gusto about the indignities of editing, without proper authority, an evening paper in Edinburgh, and Magnus mentioned the more picturesque aspects of journalism in Philadelphia. Meiklejohn made some apt and generous comments on The Great Beasts Walk Alone , and Magnus listened with pleasure vitiated only in the smallest degree by embarrassment. Then they reverted to their adventures on the road from Meshed to Constantinople, and Magnus found that Meiklejohn had introduced some very interesting and romantic additions to the tale of their travels.
âYouâre a variegated liar, arenât you, Frank?â he said thoughtfully.
âOn the contrary, Iâm frequently and spaciously truthful,â said Meiklejohn, and taking a large pinch of snuff he wiped the surplus from his nose with a grandiloquent flourish of his bright yellow handkerchief. He offered his box to Magnus. âItâs better for you than tobacco. Smoking impairs virility, but snuff clears the brain without ill-effects lower down.â His drooping eyelid dropped lower in a significant wink. âWhen did women start to assert themselves? When did they begin to stick their heads out of the blankets and lay down the law? Not till men took to smoking and lost the power to keep their wives and wenches quiet. The Mormons werenât allowed to smoke because Brigham Young knew that pipes and polygamy couldnât exist together. Every woman doctor, every woman lawyer, every woman in Parliament absolutely owes her position to tobacco. But snuff wonât do you any harm. Try this.â
Magnus took a pinch, sniffed vigorously, and felt throughout his head a profound disturbance, as though innumerable springs were about to gush forth and unknown fiery chambers of air were all at bursting point. He gasped for breath,his head nodded helplessly to and fro, and then, in successive explosions, he loudly sneezed. A wine-glass was blown from the table and a thin silver flower-vase fell before the storm. Attracted by this genial noise four young men who sat at a neighbouring table joined in the conversation for some minutes. They knew Meiklejohn, and as at one time or another they had all fallen victims to his snuff-box they viewed Merrimanâs discomfiture with sympathy. They were tall well-built young men of prosperous appearance and notably athletic in their bearing.
When the interchange of civilities had terminated, Magnus asked, confidentially, âAre they members of the
âWeâre going to make a night of it, my boy,â he promised and, calling to his landlady, whispered with muted enthusiasm, âI may be drunk tonight, Mrs Dolphin.â
âWell, youâre only young once,â she answered, âand thereâs old sheets on the bed, so there wonât be much damage done though you forget to take your shoes off. Good-night, Mr Merriman. Weâll be seeing a lot of you, I suppose, and Mr Meiklejohn will be glad of your company, for thereâs too many gentlemen nowadays who think of nothing but dancing and golf, and havenât a head for politics or drinking.â
The Café de Bordeaux, where Meiklejohn took Magnus to dine, was in essence an oyster-bar. It had established itsreputation on excellent fare and sound vintages, and in a city where only railway hotels disputed with unimaginative restaurants for the privilege of catering to impercipient palates it had acquired a certain Bohemian flavour. Meiklejohn and his guest dined simply but well on oysters and a cold grouse, and having drunk some Chablis with the former, shared a bottle of claret with the latter. Their conversation ranged the world from India to America. Meiklejohn spoke with gusto about the indignities of editing, without proper authority, an evening paper in Edinburgh, and Magnus mentioned the more picturesque aspects of journalism in Philadelphia. Meiklejohn made some apt and generous comments on The Great Beasts Walk Alone , and Magnus listened with pleasure vitiated only in the smallest degree by embarrassment. Then they reverted to their adventures on the road from Meshed to Constantinople, and Magnus found that Meiklejohn had introduced some very interesting and romantic additions to the tale of their travels.
âYouâre a variegated liar, arenât you, Frank?â he said thoughtfully.
âOn the contrary, Iâm frequently and spaciously truthful,â said Meiklejohn, and taking a large pinch of snuff he wiped the surplus from his nose with a grandiloquent flourish of his bright yellow handkerchief. He offered his box to Magnus. âItâs better for you than tobacco. Smoking impairs virility, but snuff clears the brain without ill-effects lower down.â His drooping eyelid dropped lower in a significant wink. âWhen did women start to assert themselves? When did they begin to stick their heads out of the blankets and lay down the law? Not till men took to smoking and lost the power to keep their wives and wenches quiet. The Mormons werenât allowed to smoke because Brigham Young knew that pipes and polygamy couldnât exist together. Every woman doctor, every woman lawyer, every woman in Parliament absolutely owes her position to tobacco. But snuff wonât do you any harm. Try this.â
Magnus took a pinch, sniffed vigorously, and felt throughout his head a profound disturbance, as though innumerable springs were about to gush forth and unknown fiery chambers of air were all at bursting point. He gasped for breath,his head nodded helplessly to and fro, and then, in successive explosions, he loudly sneezed. A wine-glass was blown from the table and a thin silver flower-vase fell before the storm. Attracted by this genial noise four young men who sat at a neighbouring table joined in the conversation for some minutes. They knew Meiklejohn, and as at one time or another they had all fallen victims to his snuff-box they viewed Merrimanâs discomfiture with sympathy. They were tall well-built young men of prosperous appearance and notably athletic in their bearing.
When the interchange of civilities had terminated, Magnus asked, confidentially, âAre they members of the
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