"Not entirely. But there's no point in sticking around here ... as
things are. There's precious little, I want to tell you, between me
and starvation. Still, I'm taking a few weeks to think things over."

"Won't you lose the post if you let so much time go by?" inquired the
doctor, with the heavy air of making conversation.

His friend's lip curled in easy contempt.

"Not _this_ post," he answered laconically, and turned his attention to
the sideboard. After a brief inspection of the array of bottles he
called through the little passage that led to the kitchen:

"Jacques! Here then! Got any lemons?"

"_Des citrons? Oui, monsieur, j'en ai._"

"Squeeze a couple and bring me the juice."

"_Entendu, monsieur._"

With a thoughtful face Holliday measured equal parts of gin and
Cointreau into the shaker. Esther found herself watching the operation
with interest. Still busy, he remarked without turning:

"Old Clifford seems a bit seedy."

The doctor had sunk heavily into a chair at the top of a table with a
sigh of relaxation. He replied:

"Yes, so his wife mentioned to me a few days ago, but I have not seen
him."

"I have. Last night. I was there to dinner. The old boy was quite
off his feed, and pushed off to bed about nine o'clock. I daresay
you'll be hearing from him before long."

Sartorius yawned. "I daresay," he agreed, and broke off an end of the
long stick of bread before him. It occurred to Esther that it was the
first time she had seen him sit down properly at the table for a meal.

The lemon-juice arriving at this point, the expert added it to the
contents of the shaker and agitated the whole violently.

"It's a long, long way to that Argentine ranch," he remarked pensively.
"See here, doctor, you're a farseeing man. On general principles, what
would you advise?"

The doctor looked up from his contemplation of the mustard-pot, and it
seemed to Esther that his dull eyes met and held the young man's
shallow hazel ones for an appreciable space of time.

"Well," he said at length, "do you particularly want to go?"

"Like hell," was the brief reply.

"H'm! In that case I should certainly leave the decision till the last
possible moment. There's always some slight chance of something's
turning up."

"No! Do you think there is, though?" demanded Holliday eagerly,
stopping with the shaker in his hands.

"On general principles."

The visitor's face brightened noticeably. Whist