Digital heart book

"My dear boy," he cried, "I can never forgive myself,
and you can never forgive me. Never mind, I did it for
the best. And how nobly you clung on! I dreaded we
should have had to return the money at the doors."
"It would have been more honest if we had," said I.
The pressmen followed me, Harry Miller in the front
ranks; and I was amazed to find them, on the whole, a
pleasant set of lads, probably more sinned against than
sinning, and even Harry Miller apparently a gentleman.
I had in oysters and champagne--for the receipts were
excellent--and, being in a high state of nervous
tension, kept the table in a roar. Indeed, I was never
in my life so well inspired as when I described my
vigil over Harry Miller's literature or the series of
my emotions as I faced the audience. The lads vowed I
was the soul of good company and the prince of
lecturers; and--so wonderful an institution is the
popular press--if you had seen the notices next day in
all the papers you must have supposed my evening's
entertainment an unqualified success.


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