From midnight until morning he was now left alone. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. "I have baffled you. ‘Certainly you must have seen her. "It is droll," he said. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. " "But that style isn't Oriental. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over.
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