IX. To get back one's youth, one has merely to repeat one's follies.

[epigrammatical]

[When the camera switches on there's only a view of Lord Henry Wotton's desk chair and his little library. Then a burst of laughter offscreen—familiar laughter to anyone who knows him, but brighter, lighter somehow. And then there's a blur of motion and a young man of twenty flings himself into the chair. He's got a handsome, boyish face, bright brown eyes, and a small, neatly trimmed moustache, and he's grinning hugely.

It's Lord Henry. Who has somehow had twenty-some-odd years shaved off and who looks exactly as he did when, as a young man, he took a First in Greats at Oxford without ever seeming to pick up a book. And he's loving it.]

Who is it that I must thank for this extraordinary turn of events? Has an elixir of youth been introduced to the wells of Keeliai? [He runs a hand through his hair, in which there is no more grey, and laughs again.] I used to say that the repetition of one's youthful follies is the surest way to get back one's youth, but I never expected that to be true.

[Serious? Not at all. He's just giddy.]

Ah, to have the gold of one's days paid back with interest! I must be careful not to waste it.

---

[OPEN ACTION: Over the course of the event, Henry may be found anywhere in Keeliai (particularly in the pleasure-houses, restaurants, and drinking establishments of the Fire sector). Wherever you find him, he will be in an excellent mood. Feel free to start a thread or ping me to request a start.]