"Lester," I added, seeing that he hesitated.
"It is a great pleasure," he was saying, as he took the matches; "a great good fortune which brought me to this house. So lonely one grows at times—and then, I greatly desire some advice. If you would have the leisure——"
"Certainly," and I waved toward a chair. "Sit down."
"In one moment," he said. "You will pardon me," and he disappeared through the doorway.
He was back almost at once with a handful of cigarettes, which he placed on the table. Then he drew up a chair. With a little deprecatory gesture, he used one of my matches to light a cigarette.
"It was truly for the gas," he said, catching my smile; "and the gas for the cigarette!"
There was something fascinating about the man; an air of good-humor, of comradeship, of strength, of purpose. My eyes were caught by his stodgy, nervous hands, as he held the match to his cigarette; then they wandered to his face—to the black hair flecked here and there with gray; to the bright, deep-set eyes, ambushed under heavy brows; to the full lips, which the carefully arranged mustache did not at all conceal; to the projecting chin, with its little plume of an imperial. A strong face and a not unhandsome one, with a certain look of mastery about it——
"It is true that I need advice," he was saying, as he slowly exhaled a great puff of smoke which he had drawn deep into his lungs. "My name is Martigny—Jasper Martigny"—I nodded by way of salutation—"and I am from France, as you have doubtless long since suspected. It is my desire to become a citizen of Amer-ric'."
"How long have you been living in America?" I asked.
"Since two months only. It is my intention to establish here a business in wines."