"Aunt Jemima, hand Colonel Rutter a chair.

You will excuse me if I sit down--I am just out of bed after a long illness, and am a little weak," and he settled slowly into his seat.

"My servant tells me that you are looking for a--" St.George paused.

Rutter was paying no more attention to what he said than if he had been in the next room.

He was straining his eyes about the apartment; taking in the empty bed from which St.George had just arisen, the cheap chairs and small pine table and the kitchen plates and cup which still held the remains of St.George's breakfast.