The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. But to-day he did not get beyond half a dozen desultory start-offs. "But I'll yet disappoint you. Wiped out, but for these. ” She shook her head, snapping out of her reverie. He walked on for an hour longer, till he could scarcely drag one leg after another. And for me there is only one treasure-house. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. . . Why hadn't he admitted that he recognized the photograph? What instinct had impelled him swiftly to assume his Oriental mask? "Why?" asked O'Higgins.
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