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of the change that had startled me.
'I say,' said the Editor hilariously, 'these chaps here say you have
been travelling into the middle of next week! Tell us all about
little Rosebery, will you? What will you take for the lot?'
The Time Traveller came to the place reserved for him without a
word. He smiled quietly, in his old way. 'Where's my mutton?' he
said. 'What a treat it is to stick a fork into meat again!'
'Story!' cried the Editor.
'Story be damned!' said the Time Traveller. 'I want something to
eat. I won't say a word until I get some peptone into my arteries.
Thanks. And the salt.'
'One word,' said I. 'Have you been time travelling?'
'Yes,' said the Time Traveller, with his mouth full, nodding his
head.
'I'd give a shilling a line for a verbatim note,' said the Editor.
The Time Traveller pushed his glass towards the Silent Man and rang
it with his fingernail; at which the Silent Man, who had been
staring at his face, started convulsively, and poured him wine.
The rest of the dinner was uncomfortable. For my own part, sudden
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