Secretary Periwinkle is a wonderful man, and our most eminent
conchologist. He, no doubt, will set it right; and if, by any chance,
things are past even his management, why then, I suppose, to use our
national motto, something will turn up.'
Here they arrived at the hotel. Having made every arrangement for the
comfort and convenience of the Fantaisian stranger, Popanilla's
conductor took his leave, previously informing him that his name was
Skindeep; that he was a member of one of the largest families in the
island; that, had he not been engaged to attend a lecture, he would have
stayed and dined with him; but that he would certainly call upon him on
the morrow.
Compared with his hotel the palace of his banker was a dungeon; even the
sunset voluptuousness of Fantaisie was now remembered without regret in
the blaze of artificial light and in the artificial gratification of
desires which art had alone created. After a magnificent repast, his
host politely inquired of Popanilla whether he would like to go to the
Opera, the comedy, or a concert; but the Fantaisian philosopher was not
yet quite corrupted; and, still inspired with a desire to acquire useful
knowledge, he begged his landlord to procure him immediately a pamphlet
on the Shell Question.
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