THE DIARY OF A NOBODY.
I thought to cheer him up, and said: "Well, you are all right now?"
He replied: "That's not the question. The question is whether an illness does not enable you to discover who are your true friends."
I said such an observation was unworthy of him. To make matters worse, in came Gowing, who gave Cummings a violent slap on the back, and said: "Hulloh! Have you seen a ghost? You look scared to death, like Irving in Macbeth." I said: "Gently, Gowing, the poor fellow has been very ill." Gowing roared with laughter and said: "Yes, and you look it, too." Cummings quietly said: "Yes, and I feel it too not that I suppose you care."
An awkward silence followed. Gowing said: "Never mind, Cummings, you and the missis come round to my place to-morrow, and it will cheer you up a bit; for we'll open a bottle of wine."
January 26.—An extraordinary thing happened. Carrie and I went round to Gowing's, as arranged, at half-past seven. We knocked and rang several times without getting an answer. At last the latch was drawn and the door opened a little way, the chain still being up. A man in shirt-sleeves put his
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