He rose at seven, went to bed at two, crowded the nineteen hours of wakefulness with glorious endeavour.

He went all over the country with his flambeau eveilleur, awakening the Youth of England, finding at last the great artistic gift the gods had given him, the gift of oratory.

One day he reminded Jane of a talk long ago when he had fled from the studios: "You asked me how I was going to earn my living.

I said I was going to follow one of the Arts." "I remember," said Jane, regarding him full-eyed.

"You said you thought you were a poet--but you might be a musician or painter.