His chief's hand was steady, but the two glasses jingled together until, with a smile, Amory dropped his arm.
"I _am_ about all in, I fancy," he admitted apologetically.
"A week's rest on the water," said Chillingworth, "would set you on your feet for the convention.

All right, St.George," he nodded.
St.George leaped to his feet.
"Hooray!" he shouted like a boy.

"Jove, won't it be good to get back ?" He smiled as he set down his glass, remembering the day at his desk when he had seen the white-and-brass craft slip to the river's mouth.
Rollo, discreet and without wonder, footed softly about the table, keeping the glasses filled and betraying no other sign of life.

For more than four hours he was in attendance, until, last of the guests, Little Cawthorne and Bennietod departed together, trying to remember the dates of the English kings.

Finally Chillingworth and Amory, having turned outdoors the dramatic critic who had arrived at midnight and was disposed to stay, stood for a moment by the fire and talked it over.
"Remember, St.George," Chillingworth said, "I'll have no monkey-work.