them honour me there a little oftener with their own."
Dennis looked from one of his companions to the other; he struck Tony as slightly mystified, but not beyond the point at which curiosity was agreeable. "I think I had better go to Mr. Bream," he after a moment sturdily said to Rose. "There's a matter on which I wish to talk with you, but I don't see that that need prevent."
"It's for you to determine. There's a matter on which I find myself, to you also, particularly glad of the opportunity of saying a word."
Tony glanced promptly at his watch and at Rose, "Your opportunity's before you—say your word now. I've a little job in the town," he explained to Dennis; "I must attend to it quickly and I can easily stop at the hotel and give directions for the removal of your traps. All you will have to do then will be to take the short way, which you know—over the bridge there and through my garden—to my door. We shall dine at an easy eight."
Dennis Vidal assented to this arrangement without qualification and indeed almost without expression: there evidently lingered in him an operative sense
