This necessity of a difficult decision disturbed the nice cool balance with which he had started out to face the day. There was nothing for it but to put aside the letter for the present in the hope that counsel would come to him later. And in the meanwhile he went on with his programme. He tidied his papers, went to hunt out his old charwoman, and, ultimately leaving her in possession of the studio, he ran into town to get his new materials, and look up the various accessories for the scheme of the picture. His first visit was to a shop in Oxford Street, where he had dealt ever since his student days, and where he could order what he needed without immediate payment. A burly man in a Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers was making purchases at one of the counters, and his back seemed not unfamiliar. Wyndham brought out his list and was going through the various items with one of the assistants when a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder, and, turning, he beheld the big powerful head and pointed beard of one of the old gang of his Latin Quarter days. "Sadler!" he exclaimed. The big head was convulsed with laughter, and Wyndham's hand wrung in a mighty grip. "How jolly! I was coming to look you up! I've just ferreted out your address; you're still fixed out there at Hampstead?" "Oh, do come--I shall be delighted," said Wyndham genially. "Have you been in London long?" "Three weeks. After knocking about for five years--what do you think of that, my boy? First went all over Spain--made scores of studies. Gee! First-rate! Cheapest place in Europe--exchange thirty-five to the sovereign--and lots of good eating. Went to see a bit of Velasquez down at Madrid. Gee-rusalem! And the Titans, stuck up in a funny little room! You never see anything so fine in your life." "Oh, I've been there," smiled Wyndham. The vigour and enthusiasm of his old friend, the nasalities of the deep voice, had almost a complete freshness for him, after the long interval since their last meeting. He was pleased at the encounter--it brought him whiffs of old days of happy comradeship. He felt the stirring of the war-horse. "Then I put in a nice couple of years at Munich; saw some Boecklin. Gee! He's great!" "I once saw some wretched things of his, though," said Wyndham. "I remember--at a modern exhibition at Venice."