He was equally at home in the clubs of London and the Continent, the Grand Hotel at Yokohama, and the selector's shanties in the Never-Never country.

He had shot big game in Siam, pearled in the Paumotus, visited Tolstoy, seen the Passion Play, and crossed the Andes on mule-back; while he was a living directory of the fever holes of West Africa.
Sheldon leaned back in his chair on the veranda, sipping his coffee and listening.

In spite of himself he felt touched by the charm of the man who had led so varied a life.

And yet Sheldon was not comfortable.

It seemed to him that the man addressed himself particularly to Joan.