Try these; they are all right, Stafford says." Falconer seated himself in one of the lounges and looked at the players and round the handsome room in contemplative silence.

Sir Stephen's eye wandered covertly towards him now and again, and once he said to Stafford: "See if Mr.Falconer has some whiskey, my boy ?" As Stafford went up to Mr.Falconer's corner he saw that Mr.
Griffinberg and Baron Wirsch had joined him.

The three men were talking in the low confidential tone characteristic of city men when they are discussing the sacred subject of money, and Stafford caught the words--"Sir Stephen"-- "South African Railway." Mr.Falconer looked round sharply as Stafford stood at his elbow.
"Eh?
Whiskey?
Oh, yes, thanks, I have some," he said.
As Stafford returned to the billiard-room, Falconer nodded after him.
"Is the son in this ?" he asked, sharply.
"Oh, no," replied the baron, with a smile.

"He knows nothing; he ees too young, too--vat do you say ?--too vashionable, frivolous.

No, Sir Stephen doesn't bring him in at all.