for you. It is from my family lawyer. It was his last word, as I was leaving, to ask to be remembered kindly, and to trust you would pass over so informal an introduction."
And I offered him the card.
"Ay, ay, my old friend Daniel!" says he, looking on the card. "And how does my old friend Daniel?"
I gave a favourable view of Mr. Romaine's health.
"Well, this is certainly a whimsical incident," he continued. "And since we are thus met already—and so much to my advantage!—the simplest thing will be to prosecute the acquaintance instantly. Let me propose a snack between sermons, a bottle of my particular green seal—and when nobody is looking, we can talk blazons, Mr. Dulcie!"—which was the name I then used and had already incidentally mentioned, in the vain hope of provoking a return in kind.
"I beg your pardon, sir: do I understand you to invite me to your house?" said I.
"That was the idea I was trying to convey," said he. "We have the name of hospitable people up here, and I would like you to try mine."
"Mr. Robbie, I shall hope to try it some day, but not yet," I replied. "I hope you will not misunderstand me. My business, which brings me to your city, is of a peculiar kind. Till you shall have heard it, and, indeed, till its issue is known, I should feel as if I had stolen your invitation."
"Well, well," said he, a little sobered, "it must be as you wish, though you would hardly speak otherwise if you had committed homicide! Mine is the loss. I must eat alone; a very pernicious thing for a person of my habit of body, content myself with a pint of skinking claret, and meditate the discourse. But about this business of yours:
