XXI
BLACK OUT
Toward eight in the evening, after a day-long search through all his accustomed
haunts, Ember ran Whitaker to earth in the dining-room of the Primordial. The
young man, alone at table, was in the act of topping off an excellent dinner with
a still more excellent cordial and a super-excellent cigar. His person seemed to diffuse a generous atmosphere of contentment and satisfaction, no less mental than physical and singularly at variance with his appearance, which, moreover, was singularly out of keeping not only with his surroundings but also with his normal aspect.
He wore rough tweeds, and they were damp and baggy; his boots were muddy;
his hair was a trifle disorderly. The ensemble made a figure wildly incongruous
to the soberly splendid and stately dining-hall of t
