It's a dull world, you know, after all, and we are dull fellows.

Think what one could do, now, with some of the notes I have in my pocket! Hire a motor-car, go to some bright place like the _Metropole_ at Brighton--a bright, cheerful, sociable place, I mean, where people who look interesting aren't above talking to you.

And then a little dinner, and perhaps a music-hall afterwards, and some supper, and plenty to eat and drink--" "Burton!" Mr.Waddington gasped.

"Stop! Stop at once!" "Why the dickens should I stop ?" Burton demanded.
Mr.Waddington was looking shocked and pained.

"You don't mean to tell me," he exclaimed, "that this is your idea of a good time?
That you would go to a hotel like the _Metropole_ and mix with the people whom you might meet there, and eat and drink too much, and call it enjoyment?
Burton, what has come to you ?" Burton was looking a little sullen.
"It's all very well," he grumbled.