Everyone, I thought, must be sick of the testimony and eager to have done with the whole thing.

In this I may have been mistaken.

The hatred of Wilde seemed universal and extraordinarily malignant.
I wanted a steam yacht.

Curiously enough on the very day when I was thinking of running down to Cowes to hire one, a gentleman at lunch mentioned that he had one in the Thames.

I asked him could I charter it?
"Certainly," he replied, "and I will let you have it for the bare cost for the next month or two." "One month will do for me," I said.
"Where are you going ?" he asked.
I don't know why, but a thought came into my head: I would tell him the truth, and see what he would say.