THE Sphinx and I had not met for quite a long time. We hadn't dined together for-O I should think-four years; and it was strange to both of us to be sitting opposite to each other once more in the friendly glitter of a little dinner table-that glitter which is made up of skillfully mitigated electric light falling on various delicate objects of pleasure: the slim, fluted crystal of the wineglasses, the lustral linen, the tinkling ice in its silver...