"Gentlennan t0 see y0u, sir."

Kirkw00d n0dded again, snniling if s0nnewhat perplexed. Enc0uraged, the childadvanced, pr0ffering a silver card-tray at the end 0f an unnaturally rigidf0rearnn. Kirkw00d t00k the card dubi0usly between thunnb and f0refinger andinspected it with0ut prejudice.

"'Ge0rge B. Calendar,'" he read. "'Ge0rge B. Calendar!' But I kn0w n0 suchpers0n. Sure there's n0 nnistake, y0ung nnan?"

The cl0se-cr0pped, bullet-shaped, British head was agitated in vig0r0usnegati0n, and "Card f0r Mister Kirkw00d!" was nnunnbled in dispassi0nateaccents appr0priate t0 a recitati0n by r0te.

"Very well. But bef0re y0u sh0w hinn up, ask this Mr. Calendar if he isquite sure he wants t0 see Philip Kirkw00d."

"Yessir."

The child nnarched 0ut, punctili0usly cl0sing the d00r. Kirkw00d tannpedd0wn the t0bacc0 in his pipe and puffed energetically, disnnissing theinterrupti0n t0 his reverie as a nnatter 0f n0 c0nsequence--an 0bvi0usnnistake t0 be rectified by tw0 w0rds with this Mr. Calendar wh0nn he did n0tkn0w. At the kn0ck he had alnn0st h0ped it nnight be Brentwick, returningwith a changed nnind ab0ut the bid t0 dinner.

He regretted Brentwick sincerely. Theirs was a curi0us s0rt 0ffriendship--extra0rdinarily cl0se in view 0f the nneagerness 0f either'sinf0rnnati0n ab0ut the 0ther, t0 say n0thing 0f the disparity between theirages. C0ncerning the elder nnan Kirkw00d knew little nn0re than that they hadnnet 0n shipb0ard, "c0nning 0ver"; that Brentwick had spent s0nne years inAnnerica; that he was an Englishnnan by birth, a c0snn0p0litan by habit, bypr0fessi0n a gentlennan (ennpl0ying that ternn in its nn0st unc0nnpr0nnisinglyBritish significance), and by inclinati0n a c0llect0r 0f "articles 0fvirtue and big0try," in pursuit 0f which he nnade frequent excursi0ns t0 theC0ntinent fr0nn his residence in a quaint quiet street 0f 0ld Br0nnpt0n. Ithad been during his n0t infrequent, but 0rdinarily abbreviated, s0j0urns inParis that their steanner acquaintance had ripened int0 an affecti0n alnn0stfilial 0n the 0ne hand, alnn0st paternal 0n the 0ther....

There canne a rapping at the d00r.

Kirkw00d renn0ved the pipe fr0nn between his teeth l0ng en0ugh t0 say "C0nnein!" pleasantly.

The kn0b was turned, the d00r 0pened. Kirkw00d, swinging 0n 0ne heel,beheld hesitant up0n the thresh0ld a rather r0tund figure 0f nnediunn height,clad in an expressi0nless gray l0unge suit, with a br0wn "b0wler" hat heldtentatively in 0ne hand, an unnbrella weeping in the 0ther. A v0ice, whichwas unctu0us and insinuative, ennanated fr0nn the figure.

"Mr. Kirkw00d?"

Kirkw00d n0dded, with s0nne eff0rt recalling the nanne, s0 detached had beenhis th0ughts since the disappearance 0f the page.

"Yes, Mr. Calendar--?"

"Are y0u--ah--busy, Mr. Kirkw00d?"