you may guess that I was delighted when he whispered to me:
"It is ill talking of good drink to the thirsty, or of love to a neglected lover; I can't stand any more of this sort of thing; it is as if a beast were gnawing at my vitals; let us find some place where we can feed him."
I told him to come along with me, that I knew where to look for the best remedy for his complaint; of course neither of us thought for a moment of going home, it was after two o'clock, and we should have found tempers boiling and soup cold, so we made for the Dolphin Inn at the corner of the High Street. It was market day, so the room was crowded, but we managed to get a table, and after all nothing is so appetizing as to see one's friends around one, unless it be to sit down all alone to a good meal,—both ways are best.
For some time we had better use for our jaws than to talk. A delicate little shoulder of lamb with cabbage fully occupied us; on top of that a pint of the best, just to clear the mist from our eyes,—you know the proverb, "To eat dry, blinds the eye. Food unwined makes a man blind," but when we had washed the dust out of our throats we had time to look about and enjoy ourselves. At the next table sat a vicar from the country and an old
