y chance recognized the
existence of such affairs in his intercourse with other men. His
sentiments about women were unknown save what might be gathered from his
short sharp yawp--"Ha!"--whenever they were mentioned, the laugh of a
noble nature embittered by base ingratitude. So he visualized himself.
No one had ever betrayed the slightest gratitude for anything he had
ever done. So he would be revenged on the whole pack of them--Ha!

It was Mr. Spokesly's chance question, whether the Captain was a visitor
at the house, which let him fully into the mind and temper of his new
employer.

"He's not that sort of man," said Mr. Dainopoulos, shovelling beans into
his mouth with a knife. "My wife, she wouldn't like him, I guess. He's
got something of his own, y'unnerstand. Like your friend Mr. Bates, only
he don't drink. He take the pipe a leetle. You savvy?"

Mr. Spokesly remembered this conversation later on, when events had
suddenly carried him beyond the range of Mr. Dainopoulos and his intense
respectability. He remembered it because he realized that Mr.
Dainopoulos at that time, and behind his mask of bourgeois probity,
which had been so enigmatically received by Captain Rannie, was devising
a daring and astute stroke of business based on his exact knowledge of
the AEgean and his relations with the late consuls of enemy powers. And
Captain Rannie, of course, had been aware of this. But at the moment Mr.
Spokesly easily abandoned the morals of his new commander and listened
to what might be called the wisdom of the Near East. He thought there
was no harm in asking Mr. Dainopoulos what he thought of the emerald
ring. That gentleman evidently thought a great deal of it. He offered to
buy it, spot cash, for a thousand drachma, about one sixth of its actual
value. He merely shrugged his shoulders when he heard the tale of a
woman giving it to Archy. According to his own experience that sort of
woman did not give such things away to anybody. He thoroughly understood
precious stones, as he understood drugs, carpets, currency, bric-a-brac,
dry goods, wet goods, and the law of average. He noted a minute flaw in
the stone, and finally handed it back hurriedly, telling Mr. Spokesly to
give it away to some lady.

"Or throw it into the sea," he added, drinking a glass of wine in a
gulp.

"What for?" demanded Mr. Spokesly, mystified by this sudden fancy.

"Bad luck," said Mr. Dainopoulos laconically. "It belong to a drowned
man