In some way Melbourne and I gravitated into a corner. We went on with the conversation while the others left it. They drifted into politics, drawing together about the table where the whisky stood, leaving us alone.
Melbourne had been a fascinating man to talk to. He discussed topics ranging from theories of matter to the early Cretan culture, and related them all to one dominant scientific thread. He spoke like a man of wide knowledge and experience.... As I walked up the Drive, bits of his conversation came disjointedly back to me with the clarity and significance of sentences from Spengler.
An early-morning taxi went by slowly as I crossed the Drive to my apartment. The driver stopped a moment, and looked at me in astonishment.
"What's the matter, buddy," he said, "you look all wet. Fall in the lake?" I smiled, embarrassed.
"Looks that way, doesn't it?" I answered.
"Can I take you anywhere?"
"No," I said, "I live here." He grinned, and started off again.
"Wish I'd been in on that party!" he called back, as he drove away.
I frowned, once more with that puzzled feeling, and went in.