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Jaffery by William John Locke
page 26 of 404 (06%)
the table, great gold frames enclosing (I doubt not) costly pictures on
the walls, many desirable jewels on undesirable bosoms, strong though
unsympathetic masculine faces, and such food and drink as Lucullus, poor
fellow, did not live long enough to discover.

When the ladies retired, and we moved up towards our host, I found
myself between two groups; one discussing the mercantile depravity of a
gentleman called Wilmot, of whom I had never heard, the other arguing
on dark dilemmas connected with an Abyssinian loan. A vacant chair
happening to be by my side, Adrian, glass in hand, came round the table
and sat down.

"How are you getting on?"

"Well," said I. "Very well." I sipped my port. I recognised Cockburn
1870.

"You seemed rather at a loose end."

"When one has 1870 port to drink," said I, "why fritter away its flavour
in vain words?"

"It is damned good port," Adrian admitted.

"Earth holds nothing better," said I.

We lapsed into silence amid the talk on each side of us. I confess that
I rather surrendered myself to the wine. A little taper for cigarettes
happened to be in front of me; I held my glass in its light and lost
myself in the wine's pure depths of mystery and colour; and my mind
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