"By the way, what about the tin? Can you manage?"—
"Oh yes! That's all right," I said.
I was Howard's bank, upon which he drew fitfully and spasmodically: that is to say, when any expensive little fancy seized him. He always insisted on giving me I.O.U.'s and acknowledgments for the sums he borrowed, which I as regularly tore in pieces and put in the fire. I was half way down the stairs when I ran back and opened his door again.
"Howard!"
"Hullo!"
"Have you a copy of that verse? I have not half studied it this evening."
"What?" he said, looking round his chair back. "Your precious Linked Spheres? Yes; take that one if you like."
I took up the paper.
"Thanks!" I said, and re-descended the stairs.
Going down Baker Street, I stopped at the first lamp-post, and read some lines of it again. A glow of admiration, almost of affection, towards the curious lines, full of nascent genius, lit slowly in me.