tion that I had never been abroad before, and had heard that Antwerp was an interesting town.
"How long have you got?" he asked.
"A fortnight," I told him.
"Like to see a bit more than Antwerp, if you could afford it, wouldn't you?" he suggested. "Fascinating little country Holland. Just long enough—a fortnight—to do the whole of it. I'm a Dutchman, a Dutch Jew."
"You speak English just like an Englishman," I told him. It was somehow in my mind to please him. I could hardly have explained why.
"And half a dozen other languages equally well," he answered, laughing. "I left Amsterdam when I was eighteen as steerage passenger in an emigrant ship. I haven't seen it since."
He closed the cabin door behind him, and, crossing over, laid a strong hand on my shoulder.
"I will make a proposal to you," he said.
"My business is not of the kind that can be put out of mind, even for a few days, and there are reasons"—he glanced over his shoulder towards the cabin door, and gave
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