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Updated: May 11, 2025
He was an old gentleman of regular habits, and by that time the whisky-decanter was always empty. Lady Cor-less helped him upstairs, saw to it that his fire was burning and his pyjamas warm. She dealt with buttons and collar-studs, which are sometimes troublesome to old gentlemen who have drunk port at dinner and whisky afterwards.
To show my mind was not centred on the occult, bootlaces, collar-studs, the two buttons on the back of ladies' coats, dyed hair, servants' feet, and a dozen and one other subjects, quite other than the superphysical, successively occupied my thoughts. Imagine, then, my surprise and the shock I received, when, on glancing at the gravel in front of me, I saw two shadows two enigmatical shadows.
There I shall visit a real barber; pass the time of day with my friend Henriette, whose black eyes and ready tongue grace a book shop of the Rue des Trois Cailloux; dine greatly at a little restaurant in the Rue du Corps Nu Sans Tête; and return with reinforcements of Anatole France, collar-studs, and French slang.
Even in so rudimentary a matter as collar-studs he is like a storm-tossed mariner I mean to say, like a chap in a boat on the ocean who doesn't know what sails to pull up nor how to steer the silly rudder. One rather feels exactly that about him.
The thing comes on you as a surprise. The whisper flies around the clubs: 'Poor old What's-his-name has been taken unawares. He cannot cope with the situation!" The man with the collar-studs made another diagnosis. He was seeing clearer and clearer into the thing every minute. "Looney!" he decided. "This 'ere one's bin moppin' of it up, and the one in the keb's orf 'is bloomin' onion.
Don't you lose your hair-pins, or your brooches, or whatever corresponds to our collar-studs? And have you never noticed how a pen with which you are about to sign an important document, a will or something of the kind, has changed mysteriously into a pencil generally without a point when you pick it up?" He had succeeded in his intention.
As he stood there, gazing into the middle distance, an individual of dishevelled aspect sidled up, a vagrant of almost the maximum seediness, from whose midriff there protruded a trayful of a strange welter of collar-studs, shoe-laces, rubber rings, buttonhooks, and dying roosters.
"They're doin' of it for the pictures." The idea gained instant popularity. "Jear that? It's a fillum!" "Wot o', Charlie!" "The kemerer's 'idden in the keb." "Wot'll they be up to next!" A red-nosed spectator with a tray of collar-studs harnessed to his stomach started another school of thought. He spoke with decision as one having authority. "Nothin' of the blinkin' kind!
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