in London as anywhere else?"

It did not occur to me, as I idly spoke the words, that I was uttering a
prophecy.

"How is it," I went on rather curiously, "that you remembered me,
'honouring my draft on sight,' so to speak? It must be four years since
that very jolly supper you gave me in Denver one night, and I fancy I
have changed considerably since then."

Farnham smiled in his comical American way, which was a humorous
sentence in itself.

"Well, I guess it's not so easy to forget a face like yours. You are a
little browner, your eyes rather keener perhaps, your head held a bit
higher, your shoulders broader and drawn back more like a soldier's than
ever; but, so far as I can see, those are the only changes. You might
easily have forgotten me, and I'm immensely flattered that you haven't.
But the fact is, my dear boy, you are simply the most interesting man I
ever came across, in my own country or any other. You've always seemed
like a sort of hero of a tale of adventure to me; and, you see, one
don't let a chap like that drop out of one's recollection. I've always
eagerly followed your doings, so far as one could follow them in the
newspapers, and I read your African book with the greatest interest; but
somehow I never got to hear much personal gossip about you. Say, are you
married or anything?"

"Many things, but not married," I returned. "I haven't had time to think
of women. Besides, if I had, who would take me? No money, no prospects,
a man who can't be happy for a fortnight in one place! What a life I
should lead a woman!"

"Ah, that's one side of the picture, of course; but here's the other, as
the world sees it. You're a sort of popular hero--African traveller, war
correspondent, writer of books. Polar explorer, and I don't know what
besides, though you can't yet be anywhere near thirty-five. You've got
the figure of a soldier, and just the sort of dark, unreadable face that
women rave about. What does money matter with a chap like that? Nothing.
I wonder you've managed to escape the matchmaking mammas so long.
They're quite as keen on a celebrity, in my country at least, as they
are on a millionaire."

"Nevertheless, they have not given me much trouble," I said, smiling a
little, however, at the remembrance of one or two amusing episodes which
I had not the slightest intention of relating. "There, the way to the
box-office is clear at last. Once that fat old man is out of the way, it
will be my tu