Where is the plant, Mr.Quatermain ?" "In a rather indefinite locality in Africa east by south," I replied.

"I can't place it to within three hundred miles." "That's vague, Mr.Quatermain.I have no right to ask it, seeing that you know nothing of me, but I assure you I am respectable, and in short, would you mind telling me the story of this flower ?" "I don't think I should," I replied, a little doubtfully.

Then, after another good look at him, suppressing all names and exact localities, I gave him the outline of the tale, explaining that I wanted to find someone who would finance an expedition to the remote and romantic spot where this particular Cypripedium was believed to grow.
Just as I finished my narrative, and before he had time to comment on it, there came a violent knocking at the door.
"Mr.Stephen," said a voice, "are you there, Mr.Stephen ?" "By Jove! that's Briggs," exclaimed the young man.

"Briggs is my father's manager.

Shut up the case, Mr.Quatermain.Come in, Briggs," he went on, unlocking the door slowly.