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Updated: May 17, 2025
And when, at ten o'clock in the evening, just as we were beginning to awake from the nightmare of the day, and to desire sprightly conversation, our host and hostess fell into a lethargy, and staggered off to slumber, we beguiled the hour before bedtime with talk of Jaffery's homecoming. At last we escaped and took the good train south. The Bolderos had already returned to London.
The first fine rapture of house-pride having grown calm, the Bolderos settled down to the serene beatitude of the Higher Life tempered by the amenities of commonplace existence. When Adrian worked, Doria read Dante and attended performances of the Intellectual Drama; when Adrian relaxed, she cooked dainties in a chafing dish and accompanied him to Musical Comedy.
Susan went about clapping her hands the day he arrived and shouting that Christmas had already begun. The first thing he did was to clamour for Adrian, the man of fame. But the three Bolderos were not coming till the twenty-fourth. Adrian was making one last glorious spurt, so Doria said, in order to finish the great book before Christmas. We had not seen much of them during the autumn.
I could see from the man's face that he had been expecting us. He knew us, of course, as constant visitors of the Bolderos. "What's the matter?" I asked. "Don't you know, sir?" "No." He glanced at Barbara, as if afraid to give her the shock of his news, and bent forward and whispered to me: "Mr. Boldero's dead, sir." I don't remember clearly what happened then.
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