Chapter 4, Part 4: To the Club, Gentlemen, to the Club

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After a fine-weathered Sunday, the night draws in as cold as you would expect on a clear-skied January night. What better place to escape the frost than one's cosy club? Mr Valmont Laclos certainly finds the Whitechapel a home away from home, and this evening at about nine o'clock he is cheerfully ensconced by the fire in the drawing room, a book in hand.

What a pleasant day I have had. I stayed at Arkham's until about one o'clock in the morning, and then I went with my good acquaintance Mr Macready to the Garrick Club, where I have been as a guest some two or three times. It is a lively theatrical crowd, and we drank port and loudly discussed the arts until four, at which point I retired unsteadily to bed. I was pleased to awake without a thick head, and after breakfast and a ride in the Park I felt quite myself. Having spent those hours with actors and managers did put me in something of a sentimental mood regarding Sylvia, and so I had a messenger boy deliver her a bouquet of roses. Yellow, of course. For friendship.

Having discharged my brotherly duty by playing draughts all afternoon with Alice, I dined here at the Whitechapel and am now sitting with a book. I hope to see some friends here tonight, but even if I do not, I am quite content.