found to be the result of any mere mortification caused in her by the man's manners, and, as a spectator of the human comedy, he would have given something to know what inspired it.
"This is our first time over," Tinker said. "I expect you been over often, probably, Mr. Ogle?"
"No," Ogle replied, and was displeased to suspect that his colour heightened as he spoke. "Not often."
"Too busy, I expect. You're in business in New York, aren't you, Mr. Ogle?"
"No."
Tinker nodded. "Professional man. What I thought when I looked at you, I'm a business man, myself. I expect you've probably heard of the Illinois and Union Paper Company."
"No. I haven't."
Tinker looked surprised and a little baffled. "You never did?" he said. "Well, of course New York City's got so many interests of its own, you often do meet people from there that don't get to hear much about what goes on outside their own town. We have representatives right in New York, though: Stone, Tinsdale and Company, thirty-two Broad Street. I expect you've heard of them, all right!"
"No, I haven't."
