As he did so he caught sight of his face in the mirror over the mantel-piece.
A shadow swept over it; his lips tightened.
"Barry was right," he murmured, scrutinizing himself.

"I've degenerated.

We've all degenerated.

What's the matter, anyhow?
What is the matter?
I've got everything--everything--everything." Hearing the door open behind him, he turned to see Jasmine in evening dress smiling at him.

She held up a pink finger in reproof.
"Naughty boy," she said.