I let him take me to a restaurant of his choice,but on the way I bought a paper.When he had ordered our dinner,I propped it against a bottle of St Galmier and began to read.We ate in silence.I felt him looking at me now and again,but I took no notice.I meant to force him to conversation.

　　‘Is there anything in the paper?’he said,as we approached the end of our silent meal.

　　I fancied there was in his tone a slight note of exasperation.

　　‘I always like to read the feuilleton on the drama,’I said.

　　I folded the paper and put it down beside me.

　　‘Ive enjoyed my dinner’,he remarked.

　　‘I think we might have our coffee here,dont you?’

　　‘Yes.’

　　We lit our cigars.I smoked in silence.I noticed that now and then his eyes rested on me with a faint smile of amusement.I waited patiently.

　　‘What have you been up to since I saw you last?’he asked at length.

　　I had not very much to say.It was a record of hard work and of little adventure;of experiments in this direction and in that;of the gradual acquisition of......