“‘How do you know my name?’ says he.
“‘Why wouldn’t I? says the other. ‘Sure it isn’t because one is a little down in the world that he wouldn’t have the right to his own name? I have had some troubles myself,’ says he, ‘but I don’t forget my name, for all that.’
“‘And what may it be, if it’s pleasin’ to you?’ says Luttrell.
“‘Maybe I’ll tell it to you,’ says he, ‘when we’re better acquainted.’
“‘Maybe I could guess it now,’ says Luttrell.
“‘Come over and whisper it, then,’ says he, ‘and I’ll tell you if you’re right.’ And Luttrell did and the other called out, ‘You guessed well; that’s just it!’ “‘Well,’ says Luttrell, ‘there’s many a change come over me, but the strangest of all is to think that here I am, sittin’ up and talking to the——’ The other held up his hand to warn him not to say it, and he went on: ‘And I’m no more afeard of him than if he was an old friend.’
“‘And why would you, Mr. Luttrell?—and why wouldn’t you think him an old friend? Can you remember one pleasant day in all your life that I wasn’t with you some part of it?’”
“Give up that drawing, Vyner, and listen to this,” said Grenfell. “I’ll make her begin it again for you.”