'I will do the talking and the tobacco at any rate.' 'I love Virtue,' said Freddy. 'She is a lovely goddess--for "if Virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her." She has only one fault. There is reproach in her voice, reproach in her eye, and reproach in her attitude. She is an uncomfortable goddess. Fortunately, she dwells not in this venerable foundation. Do not imitate Virtue, old boy. Let me---- That's right. We shall then start fair upon the primrose path--the broad and flowery way--though I may get farther down than you. Athelstan the Wanderer--Melmoth the Wanderer--Childe Harold the Pilgrim--drink and be human.' He set the example. 'Good whisky--very good whisky. Athelstan, there's a poor devil up-stairs, starving for the most part--let's have him down. It's a charity.' He ran up-stairs, and immediately returned with the decayed Advocate, who looked less hungry than usual, and a shade less shabby--you have seen how he borrowed of Mr. Edmund Gray through Elsie. 'Now,' said the host, 'I call this comfortable; a warm August evening; the window open; a suspicion of fresh air from the gardens; soda and whisky; and two men for talk. Most evenings one has to sit alone. Then there's a temptation to--to close the evening too quickly.' 'Freddy, I want to hear more about your neighbour. You told me something, if you remember, a week or two ago.' 'Very odd thing. Old Checkley at the _Salutation_ is always pestering about Mr. Edmund Gray. What has he to do with Mr. Edmund Gray? Wanted me to answer his questions.' 'And me,' said Mr. Langhorne. 'I did answer them.' 'Well--Mr. Edmund Gray is---- What is he? An old gentleman of cheerful aspect, who is apparently a Socialist. We must all be allowed our little weaknesses. All I ask for is----' He reached his hand for the whisky. 'This old gentleman carries his hobbies so far as to believe in them seriously. I've talked to him about them.' 'I have heard him lecture at Camden Town,' said the Barrister. 'I go there sometimes on Sunday evening. They have a tea-feast with him and cake and toast. It is a pleasant gathering. It reminds one of the Early Church.' 'Well, Athelstan, what else can I tell you? Hark!' There was a step heard ascending the stairs. 'I believe that is the old man himself. If it is, you shall see him. I will bring him in.' He went out to meet the unknown footstep on the landing. He greeted the owner of that footstep: he stopped him: he persuaded him to step into the opposite room. 'You must be lonely, Mr. Gray, sitting by yourself. Come in and have an hour's talk. Come in. This way. The room is rather dark. Here is Mr. Langhorne, your overhead neighbour, whom you know; and here is Mr. Athelstan Arundel, whom you don't know. Those who do know him like him, except for his Virtue, which is ostentatious in one so young.'