Helen started involuntarily on hearing the sound of his voice, and a cloud passed momentarily over her face. It lasted only a moment. She was too tactful, too much the woman of the world not to greet with at least apparent cordiality any visitor under her roof, no matter how unwelcome he might really be. Turning quickly, she advanced and held out her hand.
"How do you do, Signor Keralio? How you startled us! I did not hear you come in."
The newcomer's black eyes flashed, and his thin lips parted in a smile as he bent low and ceremoniously kissed his hostess' hand in continental fashion. Fond, as are most men of the Latin race, of making extravagant compliments, he murmured softly:
"Your tiny ears, Madam, were not intended to distinguish such gross sounds as ordinary mortal's footsteps. Dainty and delicately fashioned as the shells strewn along the beach, they were modeled only to listen to the gods or re-echo the music of the murmuring sea." Apologetically he added:
"But I'm afraid I intrude. Possibly you discuss family affairs——"
A look of annoyance crossed Helen's face. Quickly withdrawing her hand, she said:
"Oh, not at all. We were only talking about my husband. You know he sailed for South Africa two weeks ago. This is Mr. Steell, Signor Keralio. I think you know my sister. Mr. Parker—Signor Keralio."
The old gentleman nodded affably, and, putting on his glass, scrutinized the newcomer narrowly. The president of the Americo-African Mining Company had always made it a point not to neglect any chance introduction. He had no idea who the visitor was, but he looked prosperous. Possibly with a little careful manipulation, he might be induced to invest in some A. A. M. stock. Holding out his hand, he said affably:
"Signor Keralio—— Let me see. Where have I heard that name before?"
Ray came to the rescue.