Oscar was gloomy, depressed, and evidently suffering. Willie's theatrical insincerity had annoyed me a little, and I was eager to get away. Suddenly I saw Sherard, who has since done his best for Oscar's memory. In his book there is a record of this visit of mine. He was standing silently by the wall.
"I've come to take you to lunch," I said to Oscar.
"But he cannot go out," cried Willie.
"Of course he can," I insisted, "I've come to take him."
"But where to?" asked Willie.
"Yes, Frank, where to?" repeated Oscar meekly.
"Anywhere you like," I said, "the Savoy if you like, the Café Royal for choice."
"Oh, Frank, I dare not," cried Oscar.
"No, no," cried Willie, "there would be a scandal; someone'll insult him and it would do harm; set people's backs up."
"Oh, Frank, I dare not," echoed Oscar.