"You know I saw you here in London only the other day. You were
on a motor bus going down Ludgate Hill. It was going much too fast.
London is a good place. But I shall be glad enough to leave it. It was
in London that I met the lady I that was speaking about. If it hadn't
been for London I probably shouldn't have met her, and if it hadn't
been for London she probably wouldn't have had so much besides
me to amuse her. It cuts both ways."
He paused once to order coffee, gazing earnestly at the waiter and
putting a sovereign in his hand. "Don't let it be chicory," said he.
The waiter brought the coffee, and the young man dropped a tabloid
of some sort into his cup.
"I don't suppose you come here very often," he went on. "Well, you
probably want to be going. I haven't taken you much out of your way,
there is plenty for you to do in London."
Then having drunk his coffee he fell on the floor by a foot of the
empty chair, and a doctor who was dining in the room bent over
him and announced to the anxious manager the visible presence of
the young man's guest.
DEATH AND ODYSSEUS
In the Olympian courts Love laughed at Death, because he was
unsightly, and because She couldn't help it, and because he never
did anything worth doing, and because She would.
And Death hated being laughed at, and used to brood apart thinking
only of his wrongs and of what he could do to end this intolerable
treatment.
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