In the Days of the Comet

o Wrote in

a figure of hale age, sit

All the appointments of this room were orderly and beautiful, and in some subtle quality, in this small difference and that, new to me and strange. They were in no fashion I could name, and the simple costume the man wore suggested neither

d as he finished each sheet, writing in an easy flowing hand, he added it to a growing pile upon a graceful little ta

aiting until his pen should come to a pause. Old as

gnified, reflected, evasive rendering of a palace, of a terrace, of the vista of a great roadway with many people, people exaggerated, impossible-looking because of the curvature of the mirror, going to and fro. I tu

and sighed the half resentful sigh —“ah! you, work, you! how you gra

ace,” I asked, “

with the quick mo

ce?” I repeated,

brows, and then his expression softened to a smile. He po

ut t

the c

comfortable chair, and w

d like to re

anuscript. “This

lains,” h

t of paper toward hi

caught my attention, and I took it up. I smiled in his friendly eyes. “Very well,” said I, suddenly at my

active-looking old man in th