"Yes, but he came into a lot of money and started for home to hit a siding."
"Little chump," I said; "I remember him. There was a promising architect spoiled."
"Oh, I don't know. He is doing a lot to his money."
"Good?"
"Of course. Otherwise I should have said that his money is doing a lot to him."
"Cut out these fine shades and go back to galley-proof," I said, sullenly. "What about him, anyway?"
Williams said, slowly: "A thing happened to that man which had no right to happen anywhere except in a musical comedy. But," he shrugged his shoulders, "everybody's lives are really full of equally grotesque episodes. The trouble is that the world is too serious to discover any absurdity in itself. We writers have to do that for it. For example, there was Seabury's brother. Trouble began the moment he saw her."
"Saw who?" I interrupted.
"Saw her! Shut up!"
I did so. He continued: