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long nails； they were merely bone and sinew； large and strong； but I had
forgotten that they were so shapely。 He gave me an extraordinary
impression as he sat there； his attention riveted on his game an
impression of great strength； and I could not understand why it was that
his emaciation somehow made it more striking。
Presently； after moving； he leaned back and gazed with a curious
abstraction at his antagonist。 This was a fat； bearded Frenchman。 The
Frenchman considered the position； then broke suddenly into jovial
expletives； and with an impatient gesture； gathering up the pieces； flung
them into their box。 He cursed Strickland freely； then； calling for the
waiter； paid for the drinks； and left。 Stroeve drew his chair closer to the
table。
〃Now I suppose we can talk；〃 he said。
Strickland's eyes rested on him； and there was in them a malicious
expression。 I felt sure he was seeking for some gibe； could think of none；
and so was forced to silence。
〃I've brought an old friend to see you；〃 repeated Stroeve； beaming
cheerfully。
Strickland looked at me thoughtfully for nearly a minute。 I did not
speak。
〃I've never seen him in my life；〃 he said。
I do not know why he said this； for I felt certain I had caught a gleam
of recognition in his eyes。 I was not so easily abashed as I had been
some years earlier。
〃I saw your wife the other day；〃 I said。 〃I felt sure you'd like to have
the latest news of her。〃
He gave a short laugh。 His eyes twinkled。
〃We had a jolly evening together；〃 he said。 〃How long ago is it？〃
〃Five years。〃
He called for another absinthe。 Stroeve； with voluble tongue；
explained how he and I had met； and by what an accident we discovered
that we both knew Strickland。 I do not know if Strickland listened。 He
glanced at me once or twice reflectively； but for the most part seemed
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occupied with his own thoughts； and certainly without Stroeve's babble the
conversation would have been difficult。 In half an hour the Dutchman；
looking at his watch； announced that he must go。 He asked whether I
would come too。 I thought； alone； I might get something out of
Strickland； and so answered that I would stay。
When the fat man had left I said：
〃Dirk Stroeve thinks you're a great artist。〃
〃What the hell do you suppose I care？〃
〃Will you let me see your pictures？〃
〃Why should I？〃
〃I might feel inclined to buy one。〃
〃I might not feel inclined to sell one。〃
〃Are you making a good living？〃 I asked； smiling。
He chuckled。
〃Do I look it？〃
〃You look half starved。〃
〃I am half starved。〃
〃Then come and let's have a bit of dinner。〃
〃Why do you ask me？〃
〃Not out of charity；〃 I answered coolly。 〃I don't really care a
twopenny damn if you starve or not。〃
His eyes lit up again。
〃Come on； then；〃 he said； getting up。 〃I'd like a decent meal。〃
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Chapter XXI
I let him take me to a restaurant of his choice； but on the way I
bought a paper。 When we had ordered our dinner； I propped it against a
bottle of St。 Galmier and began to read。 We ate in silence。 I felt him
looking at me now and again； but I took no notice。 I meant to force him
to conversation。
〃Is there anything in the paper？〃 he said； as we approached the end of
our silent meal。
I fancied there was in his tone a slight note of exasperation。
〃I always like to read the on the drama；〃 I said。
I folded the paper and put it down beside me。
〃I've enjoyed my dinner；〃 he remarked。
〃I think we might have our coffee here； don't you？〃
〃Yes。〃
We lit our cigars。 I smoked in silence。 I noticed that now and then
his eyes rested on me with a faint smile of amusement。 I waited patiently。
〃What have you been up to since I saw you last？〃 he asked at length。
I had not very much to say。 It was a record of hard work and of little
adventure； of experiments in this direction and in that； of the gradual
acquisition of the knowledge of books and of men。 I took care to ask
Strickland nothing about his own doings。 I showed not the least interest in
him； and at last I was rewarded。 He began to talk of himself。 But with
his poor gift of expression he gave but indications of what he had gone
through； and I had to fill up the gaps with my own imagination。 It was
tantalising to get no more than hints into a character that interested me so
much。 It was like making one's way through a mutilated manuscript。 I
received the impression of a life which was a bitter struggle against every
sort of difficulty； but I realised that much which would have seemed
horrible to most people did not in the least affect him。 Strickland was
distinguished from most Englishmen by his perfect indifference to comfort；
it did not irk him to live always in one shabby room； he had no need to be
surrounded by beautiful things。 I do not suppose he had ever noticed
how dingy was the paper on the wall of the room in which on my first visit
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I found him。 He did not want arm…chairs to sit in； he really felt more at
his ease on a kitchen chair。 He ate with appetite； but was indifferent to
what he ate； to him it was only food that he devoured to still the pangs of
hunger； and when no food was to be had he seemed capable of doing
without。 I learned that for six months he had lived on a loaf of bread and
a bottle of milk a day。 He was a sensual man； and yet was indifferent to
sensual things。 He looked upon privation as no hardship。 There was
something impressive in the manner in which he live