"We were bound, in any case, to know one another.

Shall I tell you why?
You have just declared yourself anxious to set your heel upon the criminals of the world.

I have the distinction of being perhaps the most famous patron of that maligned class now living--and my neck is at your service." "You appear to me," Francis said suavely, "to be a buffoon." It might have been fancy, but Francis could have sworn that he saw the glitter of a sovereign malevolence in the other's dark eyes.

If so, it was but a passing weakness, for a moment later the half good-natured, half cynical smile was back again upon the man's lips.
"If so, I am at least a buffoon of parts," was the prompt rejoinder.

"I will, if you choose, prove myself." There was a moment's silence.