got on in years. Besides, the younger generation was
knocking at the door."

"I thought that was the last thing a burglar would do," said Zora.

"They generally use jemmies," he said gravely. "Wiggleswick has given me
his collection. They're very useful."

"What for?" she asked.

"To kill moths with," he replied dreamily.

"But what made you take a superannuated burglar for a valet?"

"I don't know. Perhaps it was Wiggleswick himself. He came up to me one day
as I was sitting in Kensington Gardens, and somehow followed me home."

"But, good gracious," cried Zora--forgetful for the moment of stars and
sea--"aren't you afraid that he will rob you?"

"No. I asked him, and he explained. You see, it would be out of his line. A
forger only forges, a pickpocket only snatches chains and purses, and a
burglar only burgles. Now, he couldn't burgle the place in which he was
living himself, so I am safe."

Zora gave him sage counsel.

"I'd get rid of him if I were you."

"If I were you, I would--but I can't," he replied. "If I told him to go he
wouldn't. I go instead sometimes. That's why I'm here."

"If you go on talking like that, you'll make my brain reel," said Zora
laughing. "Do tell me something about yourself. What is your name?"

"Septimus Dix. I've got another name--Ajax--Septimus Ajax Dix--but I never
use it."

"That's a pity," said Zora. "Ajax is a lovely name."

He dissented in his vague fashion. "Ajax suggests somebody who defies
lightning and fools about with a spear. It's a silly name. A maiden aunt
persuaded my mother to give it to me. I think she mixed it up with
Achilles. She admired the statue in Hyde Park. She got run over by a
milkcart."

"When was that?" she inquired, more out of politeness than interest in the
career of Mr. Dix's maiden aunt.

"A minute before she died."

"Oh," said Zora, taken aback by the emotionless manner in which he
mentioned the tragedy. Then, by way of continuing the conversation:--

"Why are you called Septimus?"

"I'm the seventh son. All the others died young. I never could make out why
I didn't."

"Perhaps," said Zora with a laugh, "you were thinking of something else at
the time and lost the opportunity."

"It must have been that," said he. "I lose opportunities just as I always
lose trains."

"How do you manage to get anywhere?"

"I wait for the next train. That's easy. But there's never another
opportunity."

He drew a cigarette from his case, p