Some one has taken it." "It iss of value, perhaps ?" he inquired politely.
"Well, no; not of intrinsic value.

'Twas only a slipper--of white satin, made by Braun, of Paris." "_One_ slipper?
Of what use?
--" "It belonged to a lady--I was about to return it," I said; but I fear my face showed me none too calm.

He broke out in a gentle laugh.
"So, then, we had here the stage setting," said he; "the pistols, the cause for pistols, sometimes, eh ?" "It is nothing--I could easily explain--" "There iss not need, my young friend.

Wass I not also young once?
Yess, once wass I young." He laid down the pistols, and I placed them with my already considerable personal armament, which seemed to give him no concern.
"Each man studies for himself his own specialty," mused the old man.
"You haf perhaps studied the species of woman.

Once, also I." I laughed, and shook my head.
"Many species are there," he went on; "many with wings of gold and blue and green, of unknown colors; creatures of air and sky.