It was then that he began to see new things, that he felt
the enthusiasm kindled by Lovell's strangely told story begin to
revive. It was not the watching for events more or less commonplace
which would repay him for the step he had taken; it was the study of
this man, placed in so strange a position,--a man come back to life,
after years of absolute isolation. He had broken away from the chain
which links together men of similar tastes and occupations, and which
goes to the creation of type. He was in a unique position! He was in
the world, but not of it. He was groping about amongst familiar
scenes, over which time had thrown the pall of unfamiliarity. What
manner of place would he find--what manner of place did he desire to
find? It was here that the real interest of the situation culminated.
At least, so Aynesworth thought then.
They were dining at a restaurant in the Strand, which Aynesworth had
selected as representing one, the more wealthy, type of Bohemian life.
The dinner and wine had been of his choosing. Wingrave had stipulated
only for the best. Wingrave himself had eaten very little, the bottle
of wine stood half empty between them. The atmosphere of the place,
the effect of the wine, the delicate food, and the music, were visible
to a greater or less degree, according to temperament, amongst all the
other little groups of men and women by whom they were surrounded.
Wingrave alone remained unaffected.
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