Sometimes, too, he would talk of his travels, telling obvious lies, for
we all knew well enough that he had never been outside the home
counties, except once on a week-end trip to Boulogne-sur-mer. On one
occasion he put me to some confusion and annoyed me considerably before
a gentleman whom I had thoughtlessly brought him with me to visit. This
gentleman had long resided in Rome as agent for an English hosiery firm,
and he and his wife were kindly showing us some photographs, picture
post-cards, and the like, when, at the sight of a certain view, Barber
bent over the picture and became absorbed.
"I have been there," he said.
The others looked at him with polite curiosity and a little wonder. To
pass it off I began to mock.
"No," he persisted, "I have seen it."
"Yes, at the moving-pictures."
But he began to talk rapidly and explain. I could see that the gentleman
and his wife were interested and quite puzzled. It would seem that the
place he described--Naples, I think it was--resembled broadly the place
they knew, but with so many differences of detail as to be almost
unrecognizable. It was, as Mrs. W. said afterward, "like a city
perceived in a dream--all the topsy-turvydom, all the mingling of
fantasy and reality."
After outbursts of this kind, he was generally ill--at least he kept his
bed and slept much.
Pages:
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501