I explained these things to Callan and he commented on them, found it strange how small or how large, I forget which, the world was.

Since his own apotheosis shoals of Callans had claimed relationship.
I ate my breakfast.

Afterward, we set about the hatching of that article--the thought of it sickens me even now.

You will find it in the volume along with the others; you may see how I lugged in Callan's surroundings, his writing-room, his dining-room, the romantic arbour in which he found it easy to write love-scenes, the clipped trees like peacocks and the trees clipped like bears, and all the rest of the background for appropriate attitudes.

He was satisfied with any arrangements of words that suggested a gentle awe on the part of the writer.
"Yes, yes," he said once or twice, "that's just the touch, just the touch--very nice.