Golightly's felicitations were sincere and spasmodically sympathetic, but he found it impossible to conceal the fact that of late the world had not smiled equally upon him.

In spite of the dramatic fervor with which the part of James Jones, a solicitor's clerk, had been rendered every evening, the piece at the Princess's had to come to an unprofitable close, the theatre had been leased to an American company, Phyllis had gone to the provinces, and Mr.Ticke's abilities were at the service of chance.

By the time he had reached his second cigarette he was so sunk in cynicism that Elfrida applied herself delicately to discover these facts.

Golightly made an elaborate effort to put her off.
He threw his head back in his chair and watched the faint rings of his cigarette curling into indistinguishability against the ceiling, and said he was only the dust that blew about the narrow streets of the world, and why should she care to know which way the wind took him! Lighting his third, he said, as bitterly as that engrossment would permit him, that the sooner--puff--it was over--puff--the sooner--puff--to sleep; and when the lighting was quite satisfactorily accomplished he laughed harshly.

"I shall think," said Elfrida earnestly, "if you do not tell me how things are with you, since they are bad, that you are not a true Bohemian--that you have scruples." "You know better--at least I hope you do--than to charge me with that," Golightly returned, with an inflection full of reproachful meaning.