He immediately left his companions who were departing after a brief and discourteous acceptance of his hospitality. "Magician?" he said loudly for their benefit as he came over to her. "Who? Me? No! I was just showin' those poor childish old men a few o' the rudiments; but naturally I had to charge 'em a little something for the lesson. They're all mad anyhow because their wives won't speak to 'em to-day; but glory! they haven't got anything on me in that line: the big trouble with me is, mine does!" Then his glance, roving jovially about the room, fell upon the poet and the painter, sitting coldly aloof. "Here, waiter!" he called to one of the stewards. "Didn't you hear me tell you to fix those two boys up like the rest of us?" With that he pushed a chair innocently between Mme. Momoro's and Ogle's, seated himself in it, and addressed Macklyn and Jones directly: "There's only the five of us left, it seems like. Whyn't you boys come over and join us? Five people's just enough for a nice cosy little party."
The two friends looked at each other hastily, then at Mme. Momoro, and came to a quick decision. Simultaneously they accepted filled glasses from the steward and the invitation from the barbarian, who received them with cordiality. "Sit down, boys, sit
