expression warmed.

"It is you? And what do you here?" extending both hands.

Some doubt lingered in Fitzgerald's mind; yet the welcome was perfect,
from whichever point he chose to look. "Come in to breakfast," he
said, "and I'll tell you."

"My table is here; sit by the window. Who was it said that the world
is small? Do you know, that dinner in Paris was the first decent meal
I had had in a week? And I didn't recognize you at once! _Herr
Gott_!" with sudden weariness. "Perhaps I have had reason to forget
many things. But you?"

Fitzgerald spread his napkin over his knees. There was only one other
man breakfasting. He was a small, wiry person, white of hair, and
spectacled, and was at that moment curiously employed. He had pinned
to the table a small butterfly, yellow, with tiny dots on the wings.
He was critically inspecting his find through a jeweler's glass.

"I am visiting friends here," began Fitzgerald. "Rear Admiral
Killigrew was an old friend of my father's. I did not expect to
remain, but the admiral and his daughter insisted; so I am sending to
New York for my luggage, and will go up this morning." He saw no
reason for giving fuller details.

"So it must have been you who brought the admiral's note. It is fate.
Thanks. Some day that casual dinner may give you good interest"

The little man with the butterfly bent lower over his prize.

"Do you believe in curses?" asked Breitmann.

"Ordinary, every-day curses, yes; but not in Roman anathemas."

"Neither of those. I mean the curse that sometimes dogs a man, day and
night; the curse of misfortune. I was hungry that night in Paris; I
have been hungry many times since, I have held honorable places;
to-day, I become a servant at seventy-five dollars a month and my bread
and butter. A private secretary."

"But why aren't you with some newspaper?" asked Fitzgerald, breaking
his eggs.

Breitmann drew up his shoulders. "For the same reason that I am
renting my brains as a private secretary. It was the last thing I
could find, and still retain a little self-respect. My heart was dead
when the admiral told me he had already engaged a secretary. But your
note brought me the position."

"But the newspapers?"

"None of them will employ me."

"In New York, with your credentials?"

"Even so."

"I don't quite understand."

"It would take too long to explain."

"I can give you some letters."

"Thank you. It would be useless.