The Journal of a Disappointed Man. W.N.P. Barbellion
do do it to me as well." It was rare fun.
"Oh! pretty knee, what do I see?
And he stooped and he tied up my garter for me."
February 10.
News of Scott's great adventure! Scott dead a year ago!! The news, when I saw it to-night in the Pall Mall Gazette gave me cold thrills. I could have wept… What splendid people we humans are! If there be no loving God to watch us, it's a pity for His sake as much as for our own.
February 15.
Tried to kiss her in a taxi-cab on the way home from the Savoy – the taxi-cab danger is very present with us – but she rejected me quietly, sombrely. I apologised on the steps of the Flats and said I feared I had greatly annoyed her. "I'm not annoyed," she said, "only surprised" – in a thoughtful, chilly voice.
We had had supper in Soho, and I took some wine, and she looked so bewitching it sent me in a fever, thrumming my fingers on the seat of the cab while she sat beside me impassive. Her shoulders are exquisitely modelled and a beautiful head is carried poised on a tiny neck.
February 16.
Walking up the steps to her flat to-night made me pose to H – (who was with me) as Sydney Carton in the picture in A Tale of Two Cities on the steps of the scaffold. He laughed boisterously, as he is delighted to know of my last evening's misadventure.
At supper, a story was told of a man who knocked at the door of his lady's heart four times and at last was admitted. I remarked that the last part of the romance was weak. She disagreed. H – exclaimed, "Oh! but this man has no sentiment at all!"
"So much the worse for him," chimed in the others.
"He was 66 years of age," added Mrs. – .
"Too old," said P. "What do you think the best age for a man to marry?"
H.: "Thirty for a man, twenty-five for a woman."
She: "That's right: it still gives me a little time."
P.: "What do you think?" (to me).
I replied sardonically, —
"A young man may not yet and an old man not at all."
"That's right, old wet blanket," chirruped P – .
"You know," I continued, delighted to seize the opportunity to assume the role of youthful cynic, "Cupid and Death once met at an Inn and exchanged arrows, since when young men have died and old men have doted."
H – was charming enough to opine that it was impossible to fix a time for love. Love simply came.
We warned him to be careful on the boat going out.
"Yes, I know," said H – (who is in love with P – ).
"My brother had a dose of moonlight on board a boat when he sailed and he's been happy ever since."
P.: "How romantic!"
H.: "A great passion!"
"The only difference," I interjected in a sombre monotone, "between a passion and a caprice is that the caprice lasts a little longer."
"Sounds like a book," She said in contempt.
It was – Oscar Wilde!
P – insisted on my taking a biscuit. "Don't mind me," she said. "Just think I'm a waitress and take no notice at all."
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