I’m not half smart enough for the West End. Stark and stark! Do you remember it all?. Our ideal had fallen. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel.
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