Moore, George: A communication to my friends ([London]: Nonesuch Pr., 1933)

o’clock and that I hoped he would be able to see me at
that time.” “Ah, you are the gentleman who was to
arrive from France this morning?” and I heard with
satisfaction that Mr. Tinsley had left word that I was to
be brought over to the Gaiety Bar. It seemed strange for
a publisher to meet an author in a drinking saloon, but I
accepted the appointment as part and parcel of my mis-
sion and followed the clerk through swing doors into a
long gallery where actors and journalists leaned over a
marble counter drinking and talking to the barmaids or
to each other. Other Bohemians, writers and painters,
sat in upholstered nooks, but what a descent, I said to
myself, from the Nouvelle Athenes. In an hour from now
Manet and Degas, Pissaro and Renoir will be there. The
moody Duranty, whose novels don’t sell but who is ad-
mired for his style, I can see in my imagination sur-
rounded by poets. Hennique is there with Alexis, talking
about the new play to be given at the end of the week at
the Varietes, and all of them have an occasional thought
for me. But I stiffened my mind to its purpose. The
Gaiety Bar shows how London takes a hint from Paris
in the building of a cafe, I was thinking, when the clerk
returned to say that he had found Mr. Tinsley with
friends. I saw a man rising to meet me. I had expected
something less like a cheesemonger. “I am very glad to
see you, sir, will you please to take a seat,” he said,
moving to give me room, and when I was seated he said,