Perhaps our office is on fire .-- Anon, anon!' He made haste to don waistcoat and swallow-tail, then crossed his sitting-room and flung open the door of the chambers.
'Ha! Then it _is_ you! I was reminded of your patient habits.' A tall man, in a light overcoat and a straw hat of spacious brim, had seized both his hands, with shouts of excited greeting.
'Confound you! Why did you keep me waiting?
I thought I had missed you for the evening.

How the deuce are you?
And why the devil have you left me without a line from you for more than six months ?' Earwaker drew aside, and allowed his tumultuous friend to rush into the nearest room.
'Why haven't you written ?--confound you!' was again vociferated, amid bursts of boyish laughter.

'Why hasn't anybody written ?' 'If everybody was as well informed of your movements as I, I don't wonder,' replied the journalist.

'Since you left Buenos Ayres, I have had two letters, each containing twenty words, which gave me to understand that no answer could by possibility reach you.' 'Humbug! You could have written to half-a-dozen likely places.

Did I really say that?
Ha, ha, ha!--Shake hands again, confound you! How do you do?
Do I look well?
Have I a tropical colour?
I say, what a blessed thing it was that I got beaten down at Wattleborough! All this time I should have been sitting in the fog at Westminster.