They left the room amongst the last, and Ennison had almost to elbow his way through a group of acquaintances who had all some pretext for detaining him, to which he absolutely refused to listen. A bumper round, gentlemen. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. Her commander, Rykhart Van Galgebrok, is devoted to my interests. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. The situation bothered him considerably. “Why?” he asked, suavely. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend.
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