"That is charming," He said. "Where is that?"
"Antwerp again," I said. "The Plantin museum. The most interesting
printing establishment in the world. So quiet, so serene--in short,
perfect and irreplaceable."
The last word seemed to strike Him.
He repeated it once or twice.
"And these are at Antwerp?" He asked again.
"Yes," I said. "And these"--showing Him more photographs--"are at
Bruges. And," I added meaningly, "still standing."
"Yes, you are right," He exclaimed. "It is outrageous. What fool ordered
the withdrawal from Belgium, I wonder--with all this work for culture
still to do!"
He was furious.
"Not a stone should have been left," He said. "The true _Geist_ must
prevail. Every opportunity of proving our enlightenment should have been
taken. There will be trouble over this, I can promise you. Leave me now.
I must think."
He turned again to the blood-and-iron tonic, and was once more at the
mirror when I left. His moustaches had come undone again. Both ends now
pointed resolutely to the carpet.
* * * * *
Illustration: _Turkey._ "LOOKS VERY TEMPTING AND FRUITY; BUT WHAT I
WANT TO KNOW IS, WHO'S GOING TO PAY THE DOCTOR'S BILL IF COMPLICATIONS
ENSUE?"
* * * * *