Its flavour lingered on the palate; it haunted your
memory in distant lands, like the after-glow of some happy love-affair.
Nice girls, too; well-mannered; not very difficult to caress, and never
jealous of each other. "It's all in the family," they used to declare.
"Am I right, then, or am I wrong?" asked Mr. Keith, whose pomposity was
melting away under successive bottles of his own wine, specially
imported to grace the table.
The honest Vice-President of the Club, Mr. Richards, was pretty far
gone, but could always be relied upon to say something opposite. That
was due to his legal training. Once a thriving solicitor, he had been
struck off the rolls in consequence of some stupid trustee business
which turned out all wrong and thereafter driven along devious paths
known only to himself: hence his residence on Nepenthe. He replied:
"That depends entirely, my dear Sir, upon what you postulated."
"The older I get," observed Mr. van Koppen, "the more I realize that
everything depends upon what a man postulates.
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