You look very well.' 'I am glad to be able to say the same of you.

And yet I hear that you work harder than ever.' 'Who is the source of your information about me ?' 'I had an account of you from Tom, in a letter that caught me at Constantinople.' 'Tom?
I thought he had forgotten my existence.

Who told him about me I can't imagine.

So you didn't come straight home from Japan ?' Barfoot was nursing his knee, his head thrown back.
'No; I loitered a little in Egypt and Turkey.

Are you living quite alone ?' He drawled slightly on the last word, its second vowel making quite a musical note, of wonderful expressiveness.