He had waited patiently for another invitation to Lansing's house, which had not arrived, and a day or two ago he had met Sylvia Marston, upon whom his mind had steadily dwelt, in a busy street.

She had bowed to him courteously, but she had made it clear that she did not expect him to stop and speak.

It had been a bitter moment to Singleton, but he had calmly faced the truth.

He had served his purpose, and he had been dropped.

Now, however, a letter from one of the people he was expecting indicated that he might again be drawn into the rubber-exploiting scheme.
The two gentlemen who had called on Herbert were shown in presently.
"It was I who wrote you," the first of them said; "this is my colleague, Mr.Nevis." Singleton bowed.
"Will you take that chair, Mr.Jackson ?" He turned to the other man.
"I think you had better have this one; it's comparatively sound." He was aware that they were looking about his apartment curiously, and no doubt inferring something from its condition; but this was of no consequence.