It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. Previously to his descent he had left the nail and spike on the wall, and with these he fastened the blanket to the stone coping. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom.
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