And now, my very patient friend, the time has come for us to part, and I hope my little sermons have not bored you over-much.  If I have put you on the track of anything which you did not know before, then verify it and pass it on.  If I have not, there is no harm done, save that my breath and your time have been wasted.  There may be a score of mistakes in what I have said—­is it not the privilege of the conversationalist to misquote?  My judgments may differ very far from yours, and my likings may be your abhorrence; but the mere thinking and talking of books is in itself good, be the upshot what it may.  For the time the magic door is still shut.  You are still in the land of faerie.  But, alas, though you shut that door, you cannot seal it.  Still come the ring of bell, the call of telephone, the summons back to the sordid world of work and men and daily strife.  Well, that’s the real life after all—­this only the imitation.  And yet, now that the portal is wide open and we stride out together, do we not face our fate with a braver heart for all the rest and quiet and comradeship that we found behind the Magic Door?