"You must not wait, nor think of words. If you are in the mood they come more quickly than you could speak or even think; you follow them and the whole effect entertains you. There's something in it. You never know what is coming and you swing about, as long as you keep the rhythm, all over the world. It refreshes you. Sometimes there are the most beautiful things. And you see all the things so vividly." "She's not morbid; she's mad." "I'm neither morbid nor mad. It's a splendid way of amusing yourself; better than imagining the chairs in front of you at a concert quietly collapsing." They were scarcely listening. Both of them were depending on each other to listen and answer. "Do you still go to Ruscino's every night Miriam?" "With the Spaniard? How is the Spaniard?" "He's eaten up with dizizz." "With _what_?" "That's what Miss Scott says." "How does she know?" "All the doctors are prescribing for him." "Did they tell her?" "I don't know. She just said it suddenly. Like she says things. The doctors are all awfully fond of him." "Why are they fond of him?" "He is extraordinary. He has given up his poster work and does lightning silhouettes, outlines of heads, at five shillings each at some gardens somewhere. Sometimes he makes five pounds an evening at it." "So you _don't_ go to Ruscino's every evening?" "He had a few weeks of being awfully poor. One day he had only eightpence in the world. Of course he was having all his meals at Tansley Street. But that evening he found out that I had nothing at all. I had been telling him about my meal arrangements. I always pay Mrs. Bailey at the time for my shilling dinners and when I can't afford them I get a fourpenny meal at a Y.W.C.A. He made me take his eightpence. The next day he _walked_ I found afterwards, all the way to South Kensington in the grilling heat to see a man about the silhouettes." "What a little brick." "He is like that to everybody. And always so...." "So what?" "Oh, I can't express him. But he's a Jew, you know, a Spanish Jew. Isn't it extraordinary?" "Well really Miriam I can't see that there is anything extraordinary about a man's being a Spanish Jew if he wants to?" "I was most awfully surprised. Mrs. Bailey told me. There is some Jewish girl he has been meeting in Kensington; he drew her portrait, a special one, for her father, for five guineas, and he has engaged himself to her because he thought she had money and now finds she has not damn her, he said damn her to Mrs. Bailey, and that he has been boring himself for nothing. He is going into hospital for his gastric ulcer when the season is over and then going to disappear. He told me he never spoke to a woman more than twice; but that he is willing to marry any woman with enough money." "Wise man." "He has spoken more than twice to you." "Yes but I know what he means. Besides we don't talk, in the society way." "How _do_ you talk?"