CULCH. (_who does not quite like being addressed as a bonnie boy_). Perfectly, thanks. My mind is being--er--stimulated here in the direction most congenial to it. PODB. So's mine. By the way, have you got a book--I don't mean a novel, but a regular improving book--the stodgier the better--to lend a fellow? CULCH. Well, I brought an _Epitome of Herbert Spencer's Synthetic_ _Philosophy_ away with me to dip into occasionally. It seems a very able summary, and you are welcome to it, if it's of any use to you. PODB. Spencer, eh?--he's a stiff kind of old bird, ain't he? He'll do me to-rights, thanks. CULCH. It strikes me, Podbury, that you must find the time rather long, to want a book of that kind. If you wish to resume our--ah--original relations, I am quite ready to overlook what I am sure was only a phase of not unnatural disappointment. PODB. (_cheerfully_). Oh, _that's_ all right, old fellow. I've got over all that business. (_He colours slightly._) How soon did you think of moving on? CULCH. (_briskly_). As soon as you please. We might start for Constance to-morrow, if you like. PODB. (_hesitating_). Well, you see, it's just this: there's a fellow staying at my hotel--Prendergast, his name is--rattling good sort--and I've rather chummed up with him, and--and he's travelling with a relation of his, and--well, the fact is, they rather made a point of my going on to Constance with _them_, don't you see? But I daresay we could work it so as to go on all together. I'll see what they say about it. CULCH. (_stiffly_). I'm exceedingly obliged--but so large a party is scarcely--however, I'll let you know whether I can join you or not this evening. Are you--er--going anywhere in particular just now? PODB. Well, yes. I've got to meet Prendergast at the _Cafe Noris_. We're going to beat up some stables, and see if we can't hire a couple of gees for an hour or two before dinner. Do you feel inclined for a tittup? CULCH. Thanks, but I am no equestrian. (_To himself, after_ PODBURY'S _departure._) He seems to manage well enough without me. And yet I do think my society would be more good for him than----. Why did he want to borrow that book, though? Can my influence after all----(_He walks on thoughtfully, till he finds himself before an optician's window in which a mechanical monkey is looking through a miniature telescope; the monkey suddenly turns its head and gibbers at him. This familiarity depresses him, and he moves away, feeling lonelier than ever._) ON THE TERRACE OF THE BURG. HALF AN HOUR LATER.