Drake hastily interrupted with an anecdote of African experiences.

It sounded bald and monstrously long, but it served its purpose as peace-maker.
Literary acquisitiveness drew Mallinson on to ask for more of the same kind.

Drake mentioned a race of pigmies and described them, speculating whether they might be considered the originals of the human race.
'My dear fellow, don't!' said Mallinson; 'I loathe hearing about them.
It's so degrading to us to think we sprang from them.' The peculiar sensitiveness of a mind ever searching, burrowing in, and feeding upon itself struck a jarring note upon its healthier companion.
'Why, what on earth does it matter ?' asked Drake.
'Ah! Perhaps you wouldn't understand.' Conway gave a shrug of the shoulder and laughed to Drake across the table.

The latter looked entreaty in reply and courageously started a different topic.

He spoke of their boyhood in the suburb on the heights six miles to the south of London, and in particular of a certain hill, Elm-tree Hill they called it, a favourite goal for walks and the spot where the three had last met on the night before Drake left England.
London had lain beneath it roped with lights.
'The enchanted city,' said Conway, catching back some flavour of those times.