CHAPTER V.
It is some years now since that golden August afternoon, and my memory of the details of the story of Liosha as told by Jaffery and illustrated picturesquely by the lady herself is none of the most precise.
Incidentally I gathered, then and later in the smoking-room from Jaffery alone, a prodigious amount of information about Albania which, if I had imprisoned it in writing that same evening as the perfect diarist is supposed to do, would have been vastly useful to me at the present moment.

But I am as a diarist hopelessly imperfect.

I stare, now, as I write, at the bald, uninspiring page.

This is my entry for Aug.

4th, 19--.
"Weighed Susan.