intention was broken for an instant by a fit of absentmindedness. He resumed his speech only after an appreciable pause, as if the omelette had reminded him of something.
"The hour is untimely, but I'm told that you're a friend of a Mrs. Lansdale, who has some pieces of Colonial furniture she wishes to let go. I wondered, you know, if you'd be good enough to introduce me. I rather thought some such formality might be advisable—I understand that a shark named Cohen has already approached her."
Even as he spoke I recalled that Mr. Cohen's face, in profile, might provoke the vision of a shark to a person of lively imagination.
"I shall be glad," I said, "to present you to Mrs. Lansdale."
Again had my caller's glance trailed across the breakfast table, where the omelette, the muffins, and the coffee-urn waited. The glance was politely unnoting, but in it there yet lurked, far back, the unmistakable quality of a caress. In an instant I remembered, and, with a pang of sympathy, I became his hungered brother.
"By the way, Mr. Price, are you staying at the City Hotel?"
"The man said it was the only place, you know."
"You had breakfast there this morning?" He bowed his assent eloquently, I thought.
"Then by all means sit down and have breakfast."
