"My dear Asher, the proof of an article has just come, and the editor
tells me he'll be much obliged if I look through it at once."
"Shall I wait?"
"Well, I'd sooner you didn't. Correcting a proof with me means a
rewriting, and--"
"You can't concentrate your thoughts while I am roving about the
room. I understand. Are you dining anywhere?"
"I'm not engaged."
The thought crossed Harding's mind when Owen left the room that it
would be better perhaps to write saying that the proofs detained
him, for to spend the evening with Owen would prove wearisome. "No
matter what the subject of conversation may be his mind will go back
to her very soon.... But to leave him alone all the evening would be
selfish, and if I don't dine with him I shall have to dine
alone...." Harding turned to his writing-table, worked on his proof
for a couple of hours, and then went to meet Owen, whom he found
waiting for him at his club.
"My dear friend, I quite agree with you," he said, sitting down to
the table; "what you want is change."
"Do you think, Harding, I shall find any interest again in anything?"
"Of course you will, my dear friend, of course you will." And he
spoke to his friend of ruined palaces and bas-reliefs; Owen listened
vaguely, begging of him at last to come with him.
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