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Clouston, J. Storer (Joseph Storer), 1870-1944

"The Man from the Clouds"

Mr. Hobhouse on his part was in
his most gushing humour, and in fact chatted almost continuously
through the meal.
As they passed out of the dining room ahead of the doctor, the two guests
exchanged a whisper, and about quarter of an hour later Mr. Hobhouse
declared that he must set forth and resume his antiquarian researches,
and effusively bade the Commander good-bye. Thereupon the Commander said
he also must be off and wondered in which direction his fellow guest was
walking. It chanced that they were both going the same way and so they
departed together.
"Well, you ridiculous looking dipsomaniac, how do you like water for
dinner?" enquired the Commander when they were safely out of earshot.
"It lies cold on the tummy," said I, "and if you've brought a
flask, Jack--"
"I have," said my cousin, "but wait a bit till there are no
witnesses. And by the way, old chap, I must tell you that you're a
d----d good actor."
"My photograph has appeared in the _Tatler_" I confessed.
"And what news?" he asked.
"Up till this morning I should have said 'none.' My dear Jack, it has
been the most hopelessly baffling business you can possibly imagine. I
think I am quite a success as an alcoholic patient, and also accepted by
this time as the typical harmless antiquary. So I am able to wander all
over the place and talk to everybody, but there has been nothing to take
hold of! I have seen no sign of anything happening--" I caught his eye
and asked quickly, "Has anything happened?"
He nodded.


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