I take home the first consignment of Simiacine; we have been very successful, you know.

I shall have to stay in London to sell that.

I have a house there." "Are you to be married at once ?" inquired Jocelyn, with that frank interest which makes it so much easier for a man to talk of his own affairs to a woman than to one of his own sex.
"As soon as I can arrange it," he answered with a little laugh.

"There is nothing to wait for.

We are both orphans, and, fortunately, we are fairly well off." He was fumbling in his breast-pocket, and presently he rose, crossed the room, and handed her, quite without afterthought or self-consciousness, a photograph in a morocco case.
Explanation was unnecessary, and Jocelyn Gordon looked smilingly upon a smiling, bright young face.
"She is very pretty," she said honestly.
Whereupon Guy Oscard grunted unintelligibly.
"Millicent," he said after a little pause--"Millicent is her name." "Millicent ?" repeated Jocelyn--"Millicent WHAT ?" "Millicent Chyne." Jocelyn folded the morocco case together and handed it back to him.
"She is very pretty," she repeated slowly, as if her mind could only reproduce--it was incapable of creation.
Oscard looked puzzled.