it in his eyes, and he was thoroughly agreeable.

"I'm from the West," he said, putting his glass down empty. "Robert
Dearborn, from Cincinnati--and I'm no end obliged to you, old chap,
whoever you are. You've got a good breakfast there, haven't you?"

"Have some," Antony offered with real generosity, for he was famished.

"Well," returned Dearborn, "to tell you the truth, I feel as if I were
robbing a sleeping man to take it, for I know how fiendishly hungry you
must be. But, by Jove, I haven't had a thing to eat since"--and he
laughed--"since I was a child."

He rinsed the glass that had held the bromide, poured out some black
coffee for himself and took half of Fairfax's bread and half of his
flower-stamped butter, and devoured it eagerly. When he had finished he
wiped his mouth and genially held out his hand.

"Ever been hungry?"

Antony did not tell him how lately.

"Good," nodded Dearborn, "I understand. Passing through Paris?"

"Just arrived."

"Well, I've been here for two whole years. By the way," he questioned
Antony, "you haven't told me your name."

Fairfax hesitated because of a fancy that had come into his mind when he
had discovered the loss of his fortune.

"Thomas Rainsford," he said; then, for he could not deny his home, "from
New Orleans."

"Ah!" exclaimed his companion, "that's why you speak such ripping
French. Now, do you know, to hear me you wouldn't think I'd seen a
gendarme or a Parisian pavement. My Western accent, you must have
remarked it, refuses to mix with a foreign language. I can speak
French," he said calmly, "but they can't understand me yet; I have been
here two years."

There was a knock at the door. Dearborn started and held up his hand.

"If Monsieur will give me his boots," suggested the mellow voice of
Alphonse, "I will clean them."

Fairfax picked up his boots, the big shoe and the smaller one, and
handed out the pair through a crack in the door.

When once again the rabbit steps had pattered away--"Go on dressing,"
Dearborn said, "don't let me stop you. You don't mind my sitting here a
minute until Alphonse does with his boot-cleaning operations. He's a
magician at that. They keep their boots clean, here, if they don't
wash."

Dearborn made himself comfortable, accepted a cigarette from the packet
the landlady had given Fairfax, and put his feet on the chair that
Fairfax had vacated.

"I went out last night to a little supper with some friends of mine. Th