cotton-wool can do. See mine," and I exhibited my amber mouthpiece, which, miscrewing in the centre, contained a plug of wool.
"By Jove! An excellent idea. Where do you get them?" he inquired.
"I'll send you one," I said, laughing, "as souvenir of this meeting. And we shall meet again, I hope."
"Certainly. I'll be most pleased. But, I say," he added, "it's awfully good of you."
"Not at all," I declared, and, then the show being over, we strolled together down Shaftesbury Avenue as far as Piccadilly Circus, where we parted.
Next day I sent him the cigarette-tube by post, and three days afterwards called at his chambers, having previously rung him up on the telephone.
The instant I entered his cosy sitting-room in the twilight of the wintry afternoon, I saw that at least I had successfully accomplished one point.
But I remained silent, took the cigarette he offered me, and sank into the big arm-chair beside the fire.
For some time we chatted merrily, the room
