"
Elizabeth, with a frown, performed the introduction.
"Mr. Anthony Cruxhall - Mr. Tavernake!"
Mr. Cruxhall held out a fat white hand, on the little finger of
which glittered a big diamond ring.
"Say, are you the Mr. Tavernake that was surveyor to the
prospecting party sent out by the Manhattan Syndicate?" he
inquired.
"I was," Tavernake admitted, briefly. "I still am, I hope."
"Then you're just the man I was hoping to meet," Mr. Cruxhall
declared. "Won't you sit down with us right here? I'd like to
talk some about that trip. I'm interested in the Syndicate."
Tavernake shook his head.
"I've had enough of work for a time," he said. "Besides, I
couldn't talk about it till after my report to the meeting
to-morrow."
"Just a few words," Mr. Cruxhall persisted. "We'll have a bottle
of champagne, eh?"
"You will excuse me, I am sure," Tavernake replied, "when I tell
you that it would not be correct on my part to discuss my trip
until after I have handed in my report to the company. I am very
glad to have seen you again, Mrs. Gardner."
"But you are not going!" she exclaimed, in dismay.
"I have left Mr. Pritchard alone," Tavernake answered.
Elizabeth smiled, and waved her hand to the solitary figure.
"Our friend Mr. Pritchard again," she remarked. "Well, it is
really a curious meeting, isn't it? I wonder,"--she lifted her
head to his and her eyes called him closer to hers--"have you
forgotten everything?"
He pointed over the roofs of the houses.
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